First Away Missions
by bearsrawesome
Summary: It's Chekov's first away mission and he, Kirk and Uhura travel down to an uninhabited new M class planet but -as with every mission with Captain James T. Kirk- things go horribly wrong and the away team are captured by an insane new race. Now Enterprise can't find them and the group are separated, fighting for their lives. Will they escape? And will any of them be the same? Torture
1. Chapter 1

**Hiya, so this is my first Star Trek fanfic and I've been thinking about it for a long time. Alas, I am a massive fan of Chekov so no doubt this will be a little Chekov-centric. But none the less, I will include all the other characters that everyone loves because I am especially fond of Scotty, Jim and Bones so no doubt I'll write some stuff with them. This will get pretty graphic in later chapters so be warned but all I ask is that you review so that I know if you want more; I have written ten chapters including this one, so please tell me if some of you are interested- it would mean the world to me! xxx**

"Energise."

Captain James Tiberius's feet touched soft Earth an instant later, the last of the golden, swirling energy dissipating into the air around him as he unhooked his tricorder from his belt. Beside him, Uhura took a step forward with a slight gasp, her sleek black hair fluttering in the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves. Around them was a beautiful landscape, purely just forest and foliage that seemed to spread on forever around them; the green canopy above allowing just a little sunlight to filter through. The twittering of birds echoed all around and if Jim really listened he could hear the steady thrum of millions of active insects and sometimes the scuttling of animals in the undergrowth. There was a sweet aroma in the air- exotic and mysterious to even a well experienced traveller like Jim-and he struggled to describe the heavenly scent that tickled his nostrils.

Taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes shut, Jim allowed the clean, fresh air to fill his lungs and enjoyed the warmth of sunlight on his face. Though Jim adored the _Enterprise_, he sometimes missed the cool breeze on his face and the fresh air, not to mention the natural, caressing light rather than the artificial thing that never had quite the same effect. There was a slight crackle and he opened his eyes to see Nyota Uhura-his communications officer-surveying the landscape with a wondrous gasp and a twinkle in her eyes. Beside her Ensign Pavel Andreivitch Chekov stared out in equal awe though he seemed a little more cautious, his blue eyes glancing around him almost nervously. Jim couldn't blame the kid, this was his first away mission after all and being on a foreign planet without much protection could be a daunting prospect to an eighteen year old that had never left the confined safety of the _Enterprise_.

"Enterprise to Captain," Spock's voice echoed out of his communicator "Have we established operational radio contact?"

Jim stifled an amused chuckle "Yes Mr Spock, it's all good down here. Keep me posted on any changes up there."

"Understood Captain; please take caution, we have not yet ascertained whether the planet is uninhabited and there are certain dangers we may not be prepared for."

"Don't worry Spock," Jim replied lightly, starting a brisk pace into the foliage "I have Uhura with me if we run into any locals and my trusty phaser at my belt. Besides, we've already scanned the planet twice to make sure there aren't any unpleasant surprises in store."

"Of course, Captain." was Spock's brief reply and Jim could sense the unease in his monotonous tone.

Jim pushed away at the dense foliage until he discovered a small track, trodden down by numerous animals and he gestured for the others to follow him. Being careful to mind where he stepped, Jim navigated the group of three through the woodland until they reached a large clearing. Beautiful flowers were scattered across the lush green grass and Chekov bent down curiously; examining the foreign plant life whilst simultaneously beginning a complex, detailed scan of the plants for Spock's botanical obsession as Science Officer. The young Russian was careful not to touch the unknown flower that sparkled in the sunlight, instead content to appreciate it from a slight distance. Jim couldn't help but be impressed by his diligence, he wasn't taking any chances despite his youth and inexperience; Bones would certainly be proud if the kid could return from his first mission unscathed.

"Zis is most interezting Keptin," Chekov commented brightly, turning to look up at him with wide, bright eyes "Ze plantz 'ere are mozt peculiar for a Clazz M planet."

Jim returned with a tight smile "Great Mr Chekov, glad you're having a lovely time."

He didn't mean to sound sarcastic and by the glare Uhura was shooting him, his disinterest was blatantly obvious and from the slight befallen look on the Ensign's face, even he could tell. Chekov rose from the crouch and moved away toward another collection of brightly coloured plants and Uhura grabbed Jim by the ear fiercely and dragged him into the edge of the trees so that they could not be overheard. Jim tried not to cry out and instead muttered painfully as she dragged him to a position where they could still see Chekov without him being able to listen into their conversation; not that it would have mattered if they were stood right beside him seeing how engrossed the curly haired teen was in his work.

"What the hell are you playing at?" she demanded angrily, placing her hands on her hips and making sure that Chekov was unaware of her scolding.

Rubbing his hot, throbbing ear, Jim frowned at her "What?"

"Don't be an ass, Jim." Uhura sneered furiously, her eyes smouldering with molten lava and it felt like they were digging deep into Jim's soul "Pavel just wants to do a good job and prove himself to you! This is his first away mission and he's nervous; give the poor kid a break and at least act a little more intrigued. You may have seen this kind of thing before but he hasn't; and he's overwhelmed that Spock trusted him to study the planet's plant life instead of him, all he wants to do a good job."

"Okay," Jim replied quietly, averting her powerful gaze "I'm sorry, it's just we have to determine whether the shuttle from the _USS Diana _did actually crash here; lives could be at stake!"

"Do you not think he knows that?!" Uhura snapped back in a harsh whisper, checking over her shoulder to make sure the young Russian still could not hear them.

Jim ducked his head and nodded "I know…but good officers died on that ship…it would be nice to think at least a few of them made it out."

Uhura's expression softened and she gave a quick nod of agreement before spinning around and strutting back toward Chekov. The coppery haired ensign didn't seem to have noticed that they had even left his side and Jim had to chuckle as Chekov started at Uhura's approach. Pushing off the bark of the tree, Jim followed her back out and placed a confident mask on his face, making sure his stride and posture conveyed the same coolness. It was surprisingly helpful in these situations, for Jim to imagine Spock and copy his Second Officer's mannerisms in a way only he could; able to determine just the right level of stoic emotion though it was a harder façade to keep than Spock's seemed to be. Jim just put it down to practice and refocused on his small away team.

"Right, we should head on." Jim commanded with casual sureness, motioning toward the line of trees ahead "This may still be a rescue mission and I would rather reach the most likely crash site by nightfall. I'm sure neither of you would like to spend the night on an uncharted alien planet."

The two both nodded enthusiastically and Jim stifled a laughed at their paled expressions at the prospect of 'toughing it out'; though if the problem did arise, he would probably just beam them back on board and continue the search in the morning from the same coordinates. Chekov prodded at his tricorder until a satisfied smile came across his face.

"Ze last knovn trajectory suggests zat ze shuttle crashed somewhere to ze northwest of our current position."

Kirk flashed a grateful smile "Very well Ensign. Please lead the way."

Chekov seemed surprised by the request, a little taken aback by his Captain's trust on his very first away mission but Uhura gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and Chekov hurried off, tricorder in hand. Catching the knowing nod from Uhura, Jim set off behind him; impressed by the young man's surprisingly brisk pace. Not that he should have been, seeing as he had first met Chekov whilst he was on a cross country run and the only reason he had caught up with the fast-footed Russian was because his classmates had tripped him up and the poor boy had landed painfully hard. They had become firm friends after that; Chekov was the one Jim had asked to create the override code for the Kobiyashi-Maru along with the help Jim needed to finish the subsequent new programming. The kid had been happy to install it as repayment; though Jim had made sure not to mention what he was actually using the programme for, so in the event that anyone recognised that Jim wasn't enough of a genius to complete the more complicated mathematics, Chekov could just claim plausible deniability despite the young man's clear suspicions. Jim had to say that when Chekov had bumped into him on his way to board the _Enterprise _after his little bout with Spock and the Academy senate, the teenager had seemed quite disheartened by the fact that Jim wasn't allowed to join him in their mutual dream.

Jim was brought back to the present as he stumbled slightly on a half-concealed log and fell heavily against a tree, just managing to grab the scratchy bark before he tumbled onto the mossy earth. Hearing his Captain's misfortune, Chekov stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to help, whilst Uhura caught Jim's arm and helped steady him as he rose to his feet again. Slightly embarrassed, Jim tried to hide his growing blush and motioned that he was fine before hurrying into a jog. Uhura rolled her eyes at Chekov and the teenager just giggled under his breath and shrugged absent-mindedly before flying off again, quickly overtaking Jim as he hopped elegantly over the forest ground.

Jim chuckled and leapt forward with new speed, trying to catch up with the younger man. There was a suspiciously close crack of a branch and Jim whipped his head to the right, just in time to see a camouflaged, armour clad figure step out from behind a tree and a large wooden branch swinging towards his face. It connected with a heavy thwak and Jim was knocked over from the force combined with his momentum and landed painfully on his back; the cut in his forehead stinging and starting to bleed profusely as it swelled. Jim heard an anguished cry and managed to spot Uhura being pinned onto the forest floor by two large males, one of them clutching at a dislocated shoulder and the other nursing a broken nose; Chekov was struggling rather valiantly against a couple of similar muscular humanoids but they held him fast and secured his hands tightly behind his back and ignored the teenagers protests. The attacker who had struck Jim stepped over him, her shadow falling across his face and blocking out the sunlight above them. Her dirty blond hair hung over them and she sniffed at him questionably before snatching the phaser from his belt and examining it closely. The armour was in fact only covering the areas most needed to retain a sense of decency and in fact they looked like a bunch of Neanderthal hunters from a far off land; almost like a scary, half-naked, lost cousins of the Flintstones. The woman's face was crinkled into a look of pure disgust as she crouched over Jim and began scrutinising his face and Jim wondered if she had ever seen someone like him before. Then she plucked the insignia from his shirt and chewed on it nervously before sliding it into a pouch at her waist.

"Look, I think we've gotten off to a bad start here." Jim tried to placate, sitting up slightly and trying to ignore the sharp pounding in his head "My name is James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise, we're part of the Federat-"

A painful smack to the face made Jim's head snap sideways and caused his words to die in his throat as he groaned in pain. The woman seemed contented with this reaction and stood to address her fellow hunters.

"We have more prisoners for the Chief; he will deem their usefulness to us. Come and make sure they do not warn any other humans."

Jim frowned at her and went to ask who the Chief was before he saw the woman smirk and bring the large branch crashing back down on his skull and heard Uhura and Chekov's desperate cries before he was consumed by the inevitable darkness of unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Uhura didn't remember much about the journey here, having had a foul smelling bag forced over her head as she was dragged through the dense woodland. When they had arrived at their base, Uhura had picked up on the background noise and was surprised to find it sounded much like some kind of city-greatly similar to that of New York-and that the native language appeared to actually be Standard English. The hunters had a specific dialect, simple but coherent, not perhaps very educated but as soon as they got to the heart of the compound and Uhura was sure she could feel concrete beneath her feet; the vernacular changed, becoming more professional in a way, more complex with a larger range of vocabulary. The gasps as they were lead through were loud and Uhura knew that even Chekov would be able to tell this was somewhat of an interesting sight to the locals but they had been identified as Human so these creatures had obviously come into contact with their kind before. Uhura could only pray it ended well and this was just some cautious misunderstanding and they were purely just trying to make sure the three crewmembers didn't intend them any harm.

Her feet dragged as they were forced up steps and a sharp object was poked into the small of her back. Staggering a little, Uhura tried to straighten up as they reached the top but was shoved again and instead stumbled forwards trying to gain some stable footing. The ground beneath them was hard, but not concrete… more like marble; and by the way the sound of their feet echoed off the walls they seemed to be in some kind of large hall. Suddenly they were yanked to a halt and barked at to kneel; Uhura complied and heard Chekov tumble down beside her, breathing hard and heavy. Jim was unceremoniously tossed down beside them, muttering an incoherent sound in his unconsciousness. The bag was ripped from her face and Uhura was nearly blinded by the sudden brightness and she desperately blinked the dancing spots from her eyes. Before her, was a large silvery throne, tall and straight backed with ebony velvet cushioning on its seat and up the centre of its back. On it sat a middle aged man with coppery hair, wearing regal robes that splayed out onto the floor around him and numerous gold rings of obvious value on his fingers. His face was long and thin, donned with an expression of mild interest as he stared down at the three but his eyes sparkled as he saw Uhura and she had seen that look to many times to mistake it.

Quickly, the man rose from his seat and carefully stepped down the platform to stand in front of her. A couple of men on either side tried to protest but he waved them off and they instantaneously fell silent, the guards bristling nervously around the large, beautiful palace hall.

"My lady," the man greeted slyly, and Uhura tried to keep her face as impassive as possible "To whom do I owe the great pleasure of having such a beautiful woman knelt at my feet?"

Uhura remained silent, keeping her eyes looking firmly ahead but a hand grabbed her hair and she hissed in pain as her head was pulled back by the hunter behind. The man tilted his head to the side with a look of sick amusement and wagged his finger.

"My lord, we discovered them in the eastern forest…like the last pigs."

The man nodded appreciatively to the female hunter standing over Kirk "So introductions are necessary I see; I am the King but you can call me your lord, or your royal highness if it flows off your tongue more easily."

This time Uhura grunted as her hair was tugged painfully again but she acknowledged the King with a brief moment of eye contact. Uhura could feel the tension rolling off Chekov in waves, not for his own safety but for hers as the King bent down to her height.

"There is no need to be rude my lovely; I won't hurt you." he purred, his eyes darkening as he stared into Uhura's "Unless of course you want it that way, please don't force my hand; things can get rather messy and I'm sure we don't want that…"

In meaning of a warning Chekov was also gripped by the hair and towed by his curls till he was facing Uhura, his bright blue eyes wet as he fought off tears. The King pushed the hunter aside, pulling a bejewelled knife from its sheath and pressed it firmly against Chekov's neck as he pulled the teenagers head back. Anger and fear coursed through Uhura's veins as she struggled in her captor's grip to reach for Chekov only to be held back. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she saw the panic in Chekov's body as he tensed but the look in his eyes were warning as he silently begged her to remain quiet. He was way too clever for his own good.

"I really don't want to ruin my knife by staining it with this poor boy's blood, so why don't you just answer my questions," the King threated calmly, his words punctuated by Chekov's gasp as the knife was pushed closer into his exposed neck.

Uhura choked back tears as she gave a slight nod of acknowledgment and the King's grip on Chekov's hair lessened "My name is Lieutenant Uhura."

"See," the King tutted pleasantly, pushing Chekov away back to his guard and placing the blade back in its place at his side "Is Uhura your first or last name? I always prefer to know my…guests on a more informal level."

Chekov shook his head at Uhura before he was again pulled away and knelt beside the King obediently; his handler placing a confining hand of the skinny boy's shoulder. He knew better than to fight. Smart kid.

Uhura ignored the sickening feeling in her gut "Nyota. My name is Nyota Uhura."

"Nyota," the King cooed, gesturing for her to rise and the cupping her face "That is a lovely name. So tell me Nyota, what brings you to my fair kingdom?"

Gently, he pulled her back to his throne, stroking her cheek with a smooth thumb as he sat down and forced her to sit quietly on his lap. The King pulled her closer into his chest, wrapping his hand around her waist and never before had Uhura wanted so badly to scream and claw at his face but she compelled herself to remain still and benevolent as he breathed down her neck. Chekov watched with an expression of pure horror, his eyes conveying his despair as he helplessly allowed events to unfold. To Uhura he looked like a child, reality dawning on him so suddenly that he had no idea how to process it.

Uhura cleared her throat and tried to keep her tone reassuring as she stared directly at the teenager "We came here on a rescue mission, my lord. One of our shuttle pods was reported to have crash landed here and we wished to retrieve them."

"So those humans were yours!" the King exclaimed almost excitedly, tightening his grip on her "I must apologise, had I have known they were with someone as…esteemed as yourself I would have been a better host."

"Do you know where they are?"

They were interrupted from a guttural moan from the Captain and the entire room turned to focus on the bleary eyed Iowan as he sat up and his eyelids fluttered.

"That is one hell of a hangover…"the young blond mumbled before suddenly realising his hands were secured firmly behind his back and he tugged at the bonds in confusion "What the-"

The King practically jumped from his seat, grabbing the crook of Uhura's elbow none-to-gently and carting her down the platform with him. Chekov's eyes grew impossibly wider and he muttered something inaudibly in Russian as the hunter behind him dug his fingers in the poor boy's collar bone to dissuade him from doing anything stupid. The King bounded over to the confused Captain, handing Uhura over to the female hunter and hauled him to his feet before slamming Kirk into a nearby marble pillar. The Captain cried out in pain at the connection, dragging him out of the midst's of unconsciousness as the King pressed his elbow against his trachea.

"How dare you interrupt me!" the King shrieked angrily, putting pressure on Jim's throat "I should kill you right now for your insolence!"

"No! Please your highness let him go!" Uhura begged, straining against the huntress's savage grip; noting how obviously mentally unstable the psychopath of a King was.

Instead the King ignored him, leaning harder against the bound man and watching the redness cross Jim's face as he fought desperately to breathe. Eyes dimming and lips growing a strange blue tint, Jim's thrashing became more sluggish and weak as his brain tried to conserve life sustaining oxygen; slowing almost to a complete stillness as his eyelids began to droop wearily.

"Nyet!" Chekov screamed bouncing upwards for the first time, only to be seized across the chest by a couple of overly willing and amused hunters "Keptin!"

The King faltered suddenly, his arm releasing the half dead Captain and letting him clatter brutally onto the floor with a frightened intake of air as the man sucked in lungful's of oxygen. Briskly, he strode over to the screaming Russian and looked at him intently, crouching down to look the teen directly in the eyes. Chekov silenced immediately, his eyes still bright but the pure terror evident.

"What did you say?" The King asked quietly, then turning to the hunters "What did he say?"

They shrugged uselessly staring at the teenager with equal interest and Uhura saw Chekov deflate under their gaze; obviously wishing he could be anywhere else but here right now. He looked over to her, his eyes conveying his message: what do I do? Realistically, Uhura seriously had no idea; this people were so all over the place that Uhura had no clue what they would do if he did or didn't answer and it was frustrating because she prided herself on being able to judge peoples actions from only knowing them a short period, it was a useful skill she had carefully honed to keep her out of potentially dangerous situations. Shame she couldn't see this one coming.

The King spun to face Uhura "What did he say?"

"He was calling out to the…Captain." Uhura ground out nervously, her eyes flicking to Kirk who was on his knees trying to get feeling back into his crushed trachea.

The King raised an eyebrow at Kirk incredulously "So you're the Captain; I am surprised, your planet must have very poor judgement to make someone as feeble as yourself a Captain-especially if you came down with you landing party on your own, without any security detail. A Captain should never leave his ship unless completely necessary and never without his armed guard."

Jim just glared at the man and growled slightly before he was wrenched to his feet by the hunters once more.

"I've saved my planet twice." Kirk rasped harshly, his face contorted into a look of defiance and unparalleled hatred "And you will release me and my crew unless you want my ship to blast you all to kingdom come."

Choosing to ignore Jim's threats the King sprung back to Chekov and motioned for him to be pulled to his feet "What language were you speaking? Our language is identical to that of you humans; our accents similar to your friends…how come yours is different?"

Never before had Uhura sensed that Chekov really hated being Russian as in this moment, as he glanced to Uhura and she nodded her permission for him to answer. The teen cleared his throat and turned to look at the King with a hounded expression.

"My lord," he said nervously, his accent thicker with emotion "On our planet, ve hawe different cultures dependent on vhere ve grov up. I come from a country called Russia, so my natiwe language iz Russian; Mizz Uhura and Keptin Kirk come from a country called America vhere they speak English."

The King nodded his understanding, his face a complex mask as he thought about what Chekov was saying; trying to imagine such a place.

"So you speak different languages?" The King asked again, his eyes distant as he sat back down on his throne and placed his knee over the armrest so that his leg hung over and he was relaxed back.

"Da, sir. I had to learn English to join Starfleet."

"How interesting," the King surmised, tapping his chin with his index finger thoughtfully "You're different colours and you have separate languages…I never realised that when I talked to the other humans. How old are you?"

Chekov blushed slightly at the question, even on an alien planet his youth was recognised "Eighteen, your highness."

"And what is your job aboard the ship? Where are you stationed?"

"On ze bridge, my lord. I am ze Chief Navigator."

The King frowned suddenly, staring down at the curly haired young man "What would an eighteen year old Navigator be doing on a scouting team? Surely, you are needed on the bridge to handle…what did the other human call them...communications?

Uhura decided this was a good moment to interrupt "King, surely we can continue this conversation in more civilised company; we would be happy to answer all your questions."

"Shhh Nyota," the older alien scolded contemptuously "Mister…?"

"Chekov." Chekov whispered anxiously but sensing that the King was looking for his first name added "Pavel."

He nodded his gratitude and looked back to Uhura "Pavel and I are having a nice chat but if you insist…" he whirled round to face the guards "Take them to the cells and I'll decide what is to be done with them."

The hunters just nodded obligingly before roughly handling the three prisoners through an arched door and out of the large throne room; the King just humming quietly behind them as he sat back in his dark throne. Jim growled at their captors as he fought furiously in their grasp, earning a swift punch to the gut that left him winded and bruised. In an angry burst, Chekov looked as though he was poised to assist his Captain but Uhura gave him a warning look of 'if-you-do-anything-to-help-that-idiot-I-will-crus h-you-later' and so Chekov immediately sagged and allowed himself to be lead away. Soon they were being shoved down a long white passageway lined with heavy iron doors. Jim was pushed down another passageway away from the others.

"Be careful!" Jim shouted as he was turned away, his voice ricocheting off the walls "I promise I'll get you out of here."

When Uhura looked back to Chekov, she could see the renewed terror in the young man's eyes as he was halted and thrown effortlessly into another cell before the door was slammed and bolted with a heavy crack. Uhura watched the doorway disappear with concern as she was lead down another corridor and was propelled into her own bleak cell and the door thundered shut. She flung herself upon the door, beating it mercilessly as she tried to call to her companions but was met by nothing but silence. They were trying to intimidate them by keeping their group separate. She couldn't let it get to her. Sighing, she observed the rest of the room: now windows and just the one door, there was a small camp bed stashed in the corner, a dirty lavatory that looked nothing more than a bucket with a tiny sink and cracked mirror. She sat down on the bed with her head in her hands, her heart longing for Spock as she fought tears; this wasn't how this was meant to be. Hopefully _The Enterprise _would realise they were missing and be able to trace their communicators or at least their life signs.

Her mind drifted back to the fate of her companions: Jim was stubborn and would keep fighting until he was inevitably broken or executed but Chekov, he had no idea how to react to this situation and hopefully he wouldn't follow his Captain's lead and acquiesce to their captor's control, for the meantime anyway. Uhura lay back and rolled her eyes in disdain as she listened for anyone outside and tried to figure out, what The King had planned for them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I'm glad you like the story so far but I'm afraid this is going to go down for Chekov and Kirk from now on. I don't have a beta so please forgive any mistakes I've made! Thanks, Morgan xxx**

Chekov didn't know what to do with himself; he was too frightened and confused to even think about panicking or crying so instead he just resigned to perching on the corner of the tiny cot and staring expectantly at the door. The teenage navigator wasn't sure if he wanted someone to open the door so that at least he'd have something to do rather than the anxious waiting, or pray that he was left alone, safe and unharmed. Then the gnawing guilt of what the fate of his friends might be and Chekov found himself chewing his nails like he did when he was a child, just trying to relieve the stress as his mind refused to shut down. Scolding himself for the immature action, Chekov brought his hand down and tapped it feverishly on his leg, shaking his leg nervously. Usually, the Russian ensign could sit still for hours at his station-well, his fingers would be moving a lot but mostly he just summarised the ships readings and reports-unlike most young men his age, he was content to not move a muscle as long as his brain was kept active by some challenging problem. Captain Kirk was always running around, leaping on and off the bridge, jumping out of shuttles toward giant laser drills but Chekov, no, Chekov would never do something as reckless as that. He was the one that everyone could rely on to stay at his post-usually, saving Kirk and Sulu during the destruction of Vulcan was a necessary move-and keep everything in relative order. When Kirk had sent him down to engineering when Scotty quit, Chekov had nearly been driven insane by the chaos and the pressure; he didn't know how the Scotsman did it every day and still remained the least bit cheerful.

To be honest, the whole Khan incident had been a much needed wake up call to Chekov; a useful reminder that even aboard the _Enterprise _he wasn't safe and that nothing in the universe could shield him from that danger. Sure, Kirk tried hard to protect his crew and his home planet, but there was only so much the Captain could do; after all, he was only human and that had been proven when he almost died in that chamber. Chekov had arrived on the scene after Spock, just as the Captain was passing and the pure devastation had made him numb and shortly after he had fainted; a reaction for which he was truly ashamed of. Everyone had been so desperate to save the Captain and those who thought he was dead had been trying to process the pain but poor little Pavel Chekov had to pass out and given everyone yet another unnecessary heart attack. Uhura had been kind about the whole incident, saying that it had given her something else important to focus on rather than worrying about whether Dr McCoy could save the Captain and trying to care for an oddly emotional Spock who refused to leave his side. Chekov however, had been disappointed in his weakness and after all that had struggled to go visit the unconscious Captain whilst he was in his coma. For two weeks, Chekov had alternated between fixing the damaged flagship and locking himself away in his room; barely saying a word to anyone or eating at all. Scotty had been rather supportive, coming to check on him when Chekov was reprograming some of the engine panels or rewiring odd broken ends. Sulu and Uhura had tried to talk to him but until the Captain had awoken and was confirmed to be completely safe; Chekov had practically ignored his friends and kept himself away from all social contact.

Then Chekov had decided he needed to change. He needed to stop being so naïve and instead began coming up with a detailed plan of how he could actually become a useful member of the crew; someone the Captain could rely on to have his back both in the field and on the bridge. His first move had been to enlist in more of the advanced combat sessions, using the time he had whilst the _Enterprise_ was being repaired and prepped for her five year mission; for which Kirk had personally come and asked him to be his Chief Navigator despite his youthful age and inexperience. Chekov had been overwhelmed by the invitation having almost convinced himself that he had completely failed as Chief Engineer and had been even more inspired to complete his personal mission before they set off. However Chekov had always had this niggling doubt that the Captain had kept him one because he had been handpicked by Pike himself- whom everyone knew was Kirk's mentor and father figure-and he was just trusting the late Admiral's choice and two, Sulu and Uhura would probably kill him for getting the Chekov's hopes up. Nevertheless, Chekov had quelled the unease and buried it deep within himself, deciding to remain completely focussed on the task at hand. His teachers had been impressed by his dedication to such a strict physical regime and though Chekov hadn't put on much weight or developed any muscle, he had certainly got progressively fitter. Innocent little Chekov had also taken up Sulu's kind offer to teach him fencing and the two had gotten closer during their weekly training sessions. That was probably why Chekov had finally plucked up the courage to offer his services on the away mission much to the surprise of the rest of the bridge crew; and Spock had then revealed he also needed to stay on the bridge and work on the anomalous readings they had received from the planet. In retrospect, there were a dozen safer missions Chekov could have chosen to volunteer for but he had decided that since he was with the Captain and Uhura he would be perfectly safe. He had been so wrong. Nothing was ever simple when it came to Captain James Tiberius Kirk.

As if to emphasise the point there was an ominous creak as someone opened the door and Chekov bolted upright, his eyes widening in fear as two hunters entered the room. Obediently, Chekov stepped toward them; all too aware that it would be worse off if he got hurt needlessly before he could meet up with the others and formulate an actual working escape plan. The two hunters didn't seem pleased that they couldn't actually beat Chekov's head into a messy pulp and were particularly huffy as they led their prisoner back toward the throne room. As they headed toward the exit, Kirk emerged from the other corridor looking bruised and battered; being dragged by about four guards as he desperately fought for freedom. He was quickly stopped by a powerful punch to that gut and Chekov could hear the all the air leave his lungs in a painful burst as Jim staggered, only to be hauled forward by his amused guards. Silencing a sympathetic cry, Chekov caught Kirk's icy blue eyes and he gave Chekov a knowing look that meant he was doing the right thing by behaving himself before he was forced to look away. A couple of minutes later they entered the throne room, to find Uhura already stood there; flanked by two female hunters and the King sat regally in his throne with two well-dressed men either side of him. The two figures watched Jim and Chekov curiously as they entered the room; Jim looking rather bedraggled as he was towed in and Chekov looking very fearful and small.

"Ah Captain and Pavel, so nice of you to join us," the King greeted strangely cheerfully, sitting up in his seat "We were waiting for you to arrive."

"To do what?" Kirk asked suspiciously, staggering forward as he was pushed next to Uhura.

Chekov's guards shoved him lightly and he fell into place on the other side of the Captain, feeling increasingly nervous at the Captain's deadly expression.

"Well," the King said poignantly, standing up from his throne "This is Doctor Standing and Mr Jefferson; they have an…interest…in your arrival."

Uhura's brow furrowed in confusion "An interest, my lord?"

Kirk turned and glared at her for a moment before focussing his fury back on the psychopath in front of them as the man the King had identified as Mr Jefferson came up and scrutinised Jim, eyeing him up closely. The young Captain seemed more surprised by the sudden attention he was getting to be actually angry at the inquisitive older man until Mr Jefferson's hand shot forward and grabbed the Captain's chin, tilting his head toward him. Jim immediately pulled away, easily breaking the alien's grip and stumbled backwards rubbing his jaw.

"What th-"

"He will do fine my lord," Mr Jefferson stated calmly, spinning around to face the King's smiling face after looking the Captain up and down once again "He might be a bit stringy but I'll make sure to tell my team to tenderise the meat first."

The realisation of what they were saying occurred to Chekov first "Nyet…you cannot eat ze Keptin!"

Kirk seemed too overcome with initial shock to say anything until Mr Jefferson received an appreciative nod from the King and the guards seized the Captain once again, leading the frozen man toward another exit. In response, Kirk desperately cried out, ramming his shoulder into one of his guards and tackling them to the floor before he was hauled upwards and struck across the head, knocking the young man out. The guard was admonished by the other man as the Captain was dragged around the corner. Chekov obediently remained where he was, too frightened by the situation to even think about retaliating when Uhura threw herself against her attackers.

"What are you doing?! You're savages!"

The King ignored her enraged comment and instead turned his attention to Dr Standing, an smug smile on his face; as though he had just accomplished something and was incredibly proud of it.

"Dr Standing, I believe you also have use for one of our human friends."

Dr Standing nodded absentmindedly, adjusting the glasses on his nose and walking down to study Chekov. His muscles tensing, Chekov instinctively went to back away from the strange man; only to be held in place by the guards positioned behind him.

"Get away from him!" Uhura cried in his defence but Chekov couldn't hear her over the blood pumping in his ears.

"Fascinating," the doctor mused, his face a complex frown "He seems younger than the rest of the species I have examined; his physical structure isn't quite as developed as the others."

The King raised his eyebrows and stepped down to approach his friend "Apparently, Pavel here is what humans call a Russian. He lives in another country and speaks a completely different language."

"The female also seems particularly protective of him; perhaps a maternal bond?" Dr Standing muttered inquisitively, looking increasingly interested.

"No," the King said firmly, strangely affected by the question "She's not his mother, I believe it's just her instinct… but this is your area of expertise."

Chekov tried to swallow the lump in his throat and tugged at the bottom of his shirt nervously. He couldn't bring himself to look at Uhura, almost afraid to let her see him so close to breaking down. Right now there was nothing that the teenage Navigator wanted more than to be safe in his quarters, back on the cherished _Enterprise _with all his friends to protect him. No amount of training or lectures could have prepared him for this.

Dr Standing nodded appreciatively before motioning to the guards "He'll be interesting to examine in great detail. Thank you my King, this is a most gracious gift."

"It is nothing. You are a loyal servant; I always reward those who please me."

"You are most generous my King," Dr Standing bowed graciously to the other man "I will not disappoint you."

The King placed a hand on Dr Standing's shoulder "I know you won't old friend. Now, go have fun with your new toy; Pavel should make good company as well as an entertaining project to ease your boredom."

A playful smile reached the doctor's lips and Chekov felt himself shaking with fright; goosebumps erupting across his pale skin as the two men looked at him with a mischievous glint in their eyes. Uhura tugged uselessly at the arms restraining her, her eyes watery as she struggled to get to Chekov but he forced a brave, defiant look on his face. She could obviously see he was faking strength to make her feel better and trying to stop her from worrying so much about him. Last thing he wanted was Uhura getting hurt because of him; he needed to know that there was at least someone who could take control if the Captain wasn't around. Hands locked themselves around Chekov's arms and he instinctively cried out in surprise as he was dragged backwards toward the back of the room. The young navigator tried to dig his heels into the smooth marble floor but he ended up just skidding, all his weight now transferred to his upper arms as his captors continued, nonplussed by his futile struggling. Their fingers dug into his skin and Chekov could already feel the bruises forming on his skinny arms as he was roughly manhandled toward a separate smaller exit on the left side of the room.

"Be careful, you morons!" Dr Standing yelled at the guards "I need the specimen in perfect condition!"

Instantly, the pressure on Chekov's arm lessened and he was pushed back onto his feet before once again being forced onwards; all the while the unease blossoming in his chest and sending shivers down his spine. Chekov managed to glimpse back over his shoulder as he was led out and caught sight of Uhura's look of pure devastation and despair, tears rolling down her soft cheeks as she watched him leave and called his name. His heart sunk as they rounded a corner and she disappeared from sight; her image imprinted on Chekov's eyelids as his own eyes began to sting with hot, salty liquid. He didn't have the strength to fight as he was jostled through the corridors, barely moving his shuffling feet as they ambled through the expanse of rooms until they entered a bright area that smelled of antiseptic and general cleanliness. Chekov had had a deep hatred of hospitals since he was a child; often becoming ill because of the harsh temperatures native to Russia and his incredibly weak immune system; meaning he often missed precious time at school- not that he didn't make up for his studies in his sick bed.

Before Chekov could even blink, he was pushed down into a hard plastic chair, much like those in a hospital waiting room before he was strapped down with a thick restraint across one of the arms. Chekov watched on in a mixture of horror and wonder as a brunette nurse clad in white uniform approached him with a needle and antiseptic wipe. Carefully, she cut away Chekov's sleeve to the elbow and dabbed the wipe across the skin of Chekov's exposed forearm. Satisfied the area was clean; she turned away and picked a needle from a silver tray, flicking the top experimentally and giving the plunger a small push so that clear liquid erupted from the spindly point. Finding himself strangely resigned to his fate, the lethargic feeling freezing the blood in his veins; Chekov scowled as the needle was brought to his exposed skin and was swiftly dug into his vein, the cool liquid flowing into his blood stream. As they syringe was pulled away, Chekov shivered instinctively; squinting as his vision began to blur, his head seemed to float above his shoulders and cotton wool filled his mouth. Gradually, he began to lose feeling in his body; drifting away into a blissful numbness that made the fear dissipate and the tension leave his muscles. Chekov was vaguely aware of the restraint being removed and suddenly he was flying, being lifted into someone's arms and loaded onto a cold metal gurney. The rattle of the wheels made Chekov's head spin and the luminous lights on the ceiling rushed past as he breathed deeply.

This was just like going into warp. He wasn't on an alien planet, in some laboratory, surrounded by people who wanted to hurt him. He was in his chair at the helm, beside his best friend, his trusted Captain sitting quietly behind him and the rest of his family gazing at the viewscreen as they blasted off into the unknowns of space; a group of explorers just searching for adventure as they danced between galaxies, swimming amongst universes and leaping from planet to planet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Haha, loved all of your reviews and I hope you liked my little plot twist. I'm afraid Chekov is going to suffer quite badly so if you aren't a fan of gore and whumpage, be warned for the oncoming chapters however this chapter is back on Enterprise with the rest of the crew. I don't know a lot about Star Trek technology so please forgive any mistakes as it is mostly made up from my basic knowledge and sorry for the stupid names for things...I'm not very creative or witty in that respect. Anyway, I would really appreciate it if you would please review and tell me what you think; I'm always open to suggestions and/or criticism (just try not to totally offend me ;) ) Many thanks again for all you fantastic support xxx Morgan xxx**

Chief Medical Officer, Dr Leonard 'Bones' McCoy, slammed his PADD down on the table in frustration and rubbed his tired eyes. He had been trying to complete a large amount of reports that had piled up over the endless weeks and now Bones was trying to complete it all in time for the next set he would have to complete at the end of the month. The doctor hadn't been slacking-he never avoided doing work due to the importance of his job-but the medical bay had just been flooded with most of the crew after an outbreak of Appalepsian Flu that had rendered most personnel confined to their quarters for at least a week. Due to the contagious nature of the disease, Bones was forced to make 'home' visits to stop the infection spreading to more of the crew, meaning that Bones was being run ragged trying to treat everyone and make sure he kept vaccinating himself after every visit. After it all, Bones had collapsed into his bed and forgotten to vaccinate himself one last time and ended up being sick for the next week; so he had barely relaxed at all during his sick leave, meaning he was still exhausted by the time he got back to his normal duties. McCoy just wanted to get all these reports out of the way so that he could enjoy his short weekend break and finally have a good nights in and if the fates would allow, a blessed long lie in.

However Bones was struggling to even concentrate on the pages and pages of files over the horrible gnawing feeling in his gut. It churned up in his stomach and made his head pound angrily and McCoy grumbled loudly, glancing down at the bottom draw of his desk and wondering if he could just take a quick swig of the bourbon inside. Instead he just scolded himself, sighed and leaned back in his chair; massaging his temples feverishly in an attempt to clear his mind. Something just wasn't right and it wasn't sitting well in his stomach; no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Restlessly, Bones stood and began pacing the length of his office, just thinking and trying to order his conflicting emotions and opinions. The away team had been gone almost the entire day with not a single communication and though McCoy didn't make a point of knowing exactly what was going on during every away mission-unless of course it required his skillset or Jim's insistence-but when the young, mischievous Captain was involved, even just small things like a lack of contact usually hinted at a more sinister reality. Inside Bones' head were a number of simultaneous arguments and debates spinning around in a whirlwind of concern; and when that happened there was no stopping the paranoia that followed until he saw the Captain safely aboard the _Enterprise_ once again. Bones grumbled to himself about being having grown too soft before marching out of the med bay and heading straight for the Turbolift.

On his journey, he patted the pouch in his pocket, checking that his hypos were still inside so that he could give the Captain a lovely warm welcome when he returned. Hypoing Jim was like scratching a mosquito bite; it brought such relief that Bones couldn't help but wish that the Captain would annoy him some more just to inflict his own sense of justice for all the stress the impulsive Captain put him through. McCoy was pretty sure he had aged a couple of decades since meeting Jim and he could practically feel the grey hairs sprouting across his scalp when he awoke every morning and the more Bones thought about it, the heavier and more tired he seemed to become. That was the thing with James Tiberius Kirk, some people he made feel fifty years younger, others he just wore down till they felt like they had been alive since the beginning of time. Leonard McCoy had always been a cynical man but he was a hard worker and though he complained and shouted, he truly cared for his friends and would give his life for them without hesitation. It was probably why Bones still stood by Jim, whatever the consequences or the danger because in truth, the young man was worth it. If Bones had been assigned to any other ship, he didn't think he could have kept his sanity-or his life-because just the nothingness of space would have gotten to him; at least aboard the _Enterprise_ there was always some kind of excitement, even if it was just another typical life drama, like Scotty running out of coffee or someone knocking over one of Sulu's beloved plants.

McCoy smiled to himself, lowering his head so no one could see the goofy look on his face as he thought about his life on the _Enterprise_, and the friends he so dearly treasured. As he turned the corner toward the Turbolift he was suddenly struck painfully hard by a smaller figure and they both went tumbling onto the floor. They both hit the ground hard and Bones grunted as the other person fell on top of him, a PADD skittering away down the corridor as they landed. There was a surprised gasp from on top of him and Bones struggled to become unpinned as he stared at the shocked face of one Montgomery Scott.

"I'm so sorry!" the Scotsman apologised in his usual rough brogue, his voice panicked as he jumped up and reached down to offer Bones some assistance "I wasn't looking where I was going."

Bones brushed himself down and gave the engineer a stern look "Be more careful next time, what's got you all pumped up?"

"The away team, haven't contacted us and it's almost nightfall. We can't find them on the scanners." Scotty rushed, bending down to rescue his fallen PADD and scrutinising it closely.

"Still?"

"Aye, Mister Spock actually looks worried."

McCoy raised an eyebrow in surprise, his keen medical eyes quickly sweeping down the other man's form and checking for any injuries "The hobgoblin is showing emotion, something must be wrong. I better get up there then."

"Sulu apparently found some unusual change in the planet's atmosphere or something; and there was some talk of an emergency signal but I didn't get to hear much." Scotty explained quickly, tapping feverishly at the PADD's screen once more.

Bones chewed his lip nervously and bid the man farewell, returning to a brisk walk as his renewed sense of concern flooded his body. He had warned Jim about this. He had told him to take more crewmembers with him; to be more careful while he was out there. He had even told the stubborn Captain to not take the kid but the idiot had refused and assured him everything would be fine. Now look what had happened; three of the senior crew were MIA. Bones cursed under his breath the entire way up to the bridge, standing stiffly as he waited impatiently for the Turbolift doors to open and he fell like slamming his fist into the wall in frustration. Finally the humming silenced and the doors slid open with the familiar whoosh but Bones was hardly paying attention as he strode over to the Captain's chair where he could just see the top of Spock's dark hair. Sulu was working diligently at his station, the Asian pilot looked flustered as he did what looked like a million things at once and harassed the random red shirt sat at the navigation panel for random equations and bearings. Everyone's chatter just washed over Bones as he angrily approached the Captain's chair, his fists curled tightly at his side. Deciding that creating a scene and losing his temper in front of the entire bridge crew would be a bad idea, McCoy halted right beside the Captain's chair and put his hands respectively behind his back; staring off at the viewscreen but all too aware that Spock now knew of his presence and obviously debating not talking with him. Probably thought he would do something 'illogical' and that Bones was 'emotionally compromised', green blooded bastard.

"Doctor McCoy," was the half-Vulcan's simple greeting, the first officer not looking up as he watched the viewscreen carefully; clearly in deep thought.

"Commander Spock."

Spock raised a stoic eyebrow at the contempt laced in McCoy's tone "Might I inquire as to your presence on the bridge?"

"I ran into Mister Scott in the corridor," McCoy tried hard to hide his frustration at Spock's impassive attitude "He says that the away team and the Captain still haven't contacted the ship yet."

"That would be correct," Spock replied casually, his fingers tapping on the arm of the chair; dancing over the controls on its face.

Bones forced himself to take a deep breath, only moments away from screaming his head off "Do you mind telling me what's going on then? Will I need to prep the med bay for a dying Captain?"

"We are currently unaware of the situation on the planet's surface." the answer was blunt and McCoy paused for a few seconds to allow Spock to continue but the alien remained silent.

"God dammit man!" Bones hissed, his southern drawl obvious as he finally unleashed a small wave of his hellish fury "Tell me what the hell is going on?!"

Spock turned to face him this time, his face as smooth as glass "As I stated before Doctor, we have no means of communication with the Captain and his team and therefore are currently not able to give you any more information on their condition."

Apparently Bones was losing his touch because right now he was pretty sure he had the most intense, intimidating glare that he had ever managed to summon; even by the Vulcan's standard, and McCoy's stare had improved from almost constant practice since meeting the Science Officer. Now though, Sulu seemed to have noticed Bones's appearance and he rose from his chair, hurrying over to join the three on their little elevated pedestal.

"Doctor," the Asian welcomed Bones with a terse smile but his eyes didn't reflect the same greeting "I guess you heard about the Captain?"

"I had a feeling," Bones responded gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I guess you want to know what's going on?"

"That would be a goddamn start."

The pilot gazed over at the Captain but the Vulcan's eyes were glassy as he stared back at the screen once more "Come with me, then."

Sulu gestured for Bones to walk with him and the headed to the back of the room to stop by the engineering station that was presently unoccupied and checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening too inclusively.

"Well," Bones prompted impatiently, his gaze softening as the pilot finally showed the true extent of his worry.

"Six hours ago we lost all contact with the Captain on the surface, the last we heard was that they had safely landed and Kirk swore they'd be back no later than sundown."

Sulu breathed deeply and shifted his weight to his other foot, swinging his arms nervously "We've tried everything to reach them with no answer and when we swept the surface again there was no sign of any human life anywhere. It's like they just vanished into thin air!"

"Could they have gone underground? Maybe they had to find shelter?" Bones inquired, knotting his eyebrows together as he listened to the younger man's recollection of events.

"I thought that to but that was before we received the signal."

Bones's frown deepened and his heart skipped a beat "What signal?"

"Chekov's emergency beacon," Sulu clarified softly, his eyes glistening as if he were close to tears "He installed it before they left; a little tech update to the badge's. He and Scotty had been discussing the project for weeks but never had the chance to test it out after Chekov made the prototype."

Bones nodded in understanding "Till now."

"Yeah," Sulu tilted his head solemnly, fiddling with his own badge "Chekov thought it would be the perfect time for a trial run and he was excited to see if it worked. Scotty was convinced it could become Starfleet issue if it actually worked…"

"How does it work?" Bones asked calmly, feeling sorry for the young man in front of him as he saw the deep sadness and anxiety in Sulu's expression.

Sulu shook his head a little "I didn't get the whole techy side to what Chekov said but basically if the badge is removed from the holder then it sends an alert to the systems computer with an emergency signal that can be tracked if necessary; he wasn't quite sure how accurate it was though so he asked me to help him with the test. Because it was a trial run it would only alert my PADD when he removed it and I could then see how fast I could track it and how precise the coordinates would be."

"So it worked?"

"Yeah, the alert went off earlier than we agreed but I just reckoned that Pav got excited and wanted to prove his invention worked as soon as possible. I didn't think anything of it until a couple of hours later but by then the beacon had moved and the coordinates had been scrambled." Sulu replied guiltily, his hanging a little lower as he spoke.

"In your experience," Bones pressed further, tapping his chin in thought "What could have scrambled the beacon's frequency?"

Sulu shrugged half-heartedly "Any number of things really: a solar storm, some kind of flux in the planet's magnetic field, the weather and atmosphere, a high powered planetary defence grid or a cloaking device-"

"A cloaking device? Do you think that could be why there are no signs of life?"

"Perhaps," Sulu frowned in thought, chewing on his lip in concentration "It would require a tremendous amount of power and we would have been able to pick that kind of radiation up off the scans."

McCoy cursed in annoyance; there goes another theory. But Sulu still seemed to be thinking about it as he mumbled incomprehensively to himself and Bones strained to hear him as they younger man narrowed his eyes and turned to the station beside them.

"Unless…" Sulu's voice trailed off as he began sliding his finger across the screen and bring up a load of images and specs from the probe's scans.

Suddenly, his face lit up in a 'eureka!' moment and the Asian pointed wildly at the screen, highlighting a bunch of technical ramblings that Bones had no desire in trying to understand.

"That's it!" Sulu yelled, drawing the whole bridge's attention including the surprisingly quiet Spock.

Fast as lightening, Sulu displayed the images on the viewscreen and rushed off back to his seat at the helm to obviously reveal his fascinating discovery. The Asian stopped at the viewscreen, looking directly at Spock as the Vulcan leant forward in his chair to listen.

"We were wrong!" Sulu cried enthusiastically, looking around at his captivated audience as Bones stood at Spock's side once again "The planet is inhabited! Look at the left over Zargon energy, it's practically undetectable because of how common it is in this kind of atmosphere but the concentrations of it here are exceedingly high. High levels of Zargon's are often an after effect of highly sophisticated planetary defence grids because they are practically imperceptible and leave no lasting effects to a planet's ecology."

Sulu paused and his fingers met his station again, sending another few images up onto the viewscreen in rapid succession.

"They are also theorised to disguise advanced cloaking devices, meaning though a planet may have six billion lives you wouldn't be able to see a single one from space. As soon as the away team transported through that grid an alert would have been sent to its nearest control station where I have no doubt that they sent out a search party to capture the intruders."

Spock rose from his seat, a look of scepticism in his eyes "That kind of technology is beyond that of even the Romulan Empire; the inhabitants of this planet have incredible advancements and I have no doubt that a single blast from one of their planetary defences could destroy the ship."

Everyone was dead silent on the bridge as Sulu nodded in agreement and McCoy tried not to show the uncertainty on his face as he stepped forward.

"So what do we do then? We can't just leave Jim and the others stranded on that damn planet!"

"A rescue mission would be highly illogical given the circumstances," Spock retorted immediately, not even skipping a beat as he stared up at the viewscreen with the same blank expression as before.

Sulu froze in a mixture of shock and horror and Bones felt like his head was going to explode as he turned on the acting Captain "This is no time for your ridiculous Vulcan ideologies, Spock! Jim, Uhura and Chekov need as down there and I sure as hell am not going to just sit back here and do nothin'! No matter what the odds are or who I may be fighting!"

"I agree with Doctor McCoy sir!" Sulu added, stepping up toward the Vulcan "Kirk would never leave a crewmember behind, no matter who they were! And I am going to return the courtesy!"

"What about Uhura, Spock?" Bones spat rabidly, his spite cutting through everyone like his words were made of steel "You supposedly love her so prove it! Forget protocol and procedure and go down there and god damn save her!"

Then Spock did something that Bones would never forget; he flinched. He physically shied away from Bones' hateful words with a look of shame on his normally composed face and finally Bones understood that Scotty had been right; Spock was worried. Worst of all, Spock was scared. And if Spock was scared, lord knows what it would be like for us mortal men. Bones was taken aback by the reaction and there was a tense silence between the two before Spock's mask fell back into place with a new fierceness in his eyes.

"_You are right doctor. I love Nyota and we will save her, we will save them all. No matter the risk or the final cost."_


	5. Chapter 5

The concrete floor was cold against Jim's cheek as he stirred, blinking wearily as he tried to bring himself into full awareness. A deep pounding in his head made Jim wince and he tried to bring his hand up to the painful spot on his face; only for his hand to come to a jarring halt. Jim frowned in confusion, his thoughts still muddled and incoherent as he slowly pushed himself up with his other hand and rolled into a sitting position before searching for the cause of his immobility. A thick heavy chain ran from the wall to a solid, shining shackle that was tightly locked around his wrist; only a few feet in length so that Jim would not be able to stand to his full height nor move any further than where he was already. Jim tugged at the heavy metal but he already knew it was a futile action and sighed in frustration; leaning back and placing his forehead against his knee.

"This cannot be happening…"Jim muttered to himself, his despair evident in his voice as he rubbed his face tiredly.

Somewhere to his left someone snorted "Yeah buddy, we all didn't piss off his royal highness and get sent to the kitchens."

Jim startled at the low voice, almost falling over due to his sluggish reactions and pulling the chain so it cut into his skin. Squinting, Jim could finally make out shadows all around him; concealed by the dim lighting, but they were still merely dark figures and he couldn't make out any defining features even though the prisoner beside him was only five feet away.

"Who are you?"

"Noel," the shadow said quietly, shuffling a little closer to Jim "It's a bit old fashioned but it's been the name of all the eldest sons in our family for generations."

"Jim Kirk," Jim tugged at his chain once more so that it rattled nosily "I'd shake your hand but…"

Noel sniggered softly "I understand. So what are you doing here Jim Kirk? What crime did you commit to get yourself fed to the city?"

"Wait…I'm getting fed to other people? The entire city gets a piece of me?!" Jim's voice raised a few octaves in alarm.

"Not the _entire_ city," Noel responded casually, as though they were having a pleasant conversation about the weather "You know the law."

Jim frowned in confusion, his curiosity piqued "Uh, I'm not from around here. What law?"

"The law," Noel sighed almost exasperatedly, as though he didn't believe that Jim could be so clueless "Is that every crime is punishable by death, one that is chosen by the state during your trial."

"Huh, nice judicial system you have here."

Noel's chains jangled and Jim was surprised by the sudden sound amongst the relative silence of the dingy prison "It's the same everywhere, how could you not know?"

"I'm an explorer," Jim stated simply, running his free hand through his unruly hair "My crew and I came here to search for some missing personnel from another vessel that was reported to have been destroyed. We didn't expect to have company."

There was a gasp from almost everyone in the room and somewhere to Jim's right a voice called out "You're from another planet?"

"Uhuh," Jim nodded, forgetting that the movement was useless due to the poor lighting "I come from a planet called Earth. Earth is part of a universal alliance called The Federation and we have a kind of defence force called Starfleet. Starfleet fly across the universe defending and assisting planets in an attempt to create a peaceful coexistence between all races in the universe. That's my job and why I came here aboard my Starship-the _Enterprise_."

Jim didn't know why he was being so open in front of these complete strangers; maybe it was because he was still suffering from the after effects of his concussion or perhaps it was because they all had the mutual predicament of being eaten for supper.

"What's it like?" another voice asked from an indiscriminate place in the darkness "What's Earth like?"

They spoke 'Earth' as if it were some foreign concept, savouring each syllable in a mixture of wonder and marvel as they whispered it to one another so that the room suddenly hummed with life.

"It's beautiful." Jim smiled to himself, picturing the hot sun on the back if his neck and the fresh breeze flowing over him "It's not perfect but, that just makes it more amazing. It gives us things to change, to make better. One thing about this job is that you learn to appreciate things that you once took for granted like fresh grass, hamburgers even jury duty. It reminds us that we're human, that we're free. We finally have peace, a peace we can rely on; along with our friends from across the galaxy."

"It sounds amazing." a female voice gushed nearby and there was an echo of appreciation throughout the entire room.

Jim ducked his head and picked at his chain absentmindedly before pushing himself from his reverie "Yeah well, I'm a long way away right now. I have friends to save, so if any of you know of any way to escape it would be much appreciated if you helped me out?"

Silence. The entire room went quiet, each of them obviously in deep thought as Jim tried to base his own layout of the room and calculate how many people were inside with him. There were quite a few by the looks of things; maybe fifteen, pushing twenty? Doubt circulated through Jim's entire body; he was smart and had gotten out of a lot of apparently dangerous situations –hence his non-existent belief in no-win scenarios-but with this many people not being able to escape, things seemed to be becoming bleaker.

Finally Noel spoke up beside him "Hundreds of people have died here over the years-maybe thousands-don't you think if we knew of a way to escape, we would still be here?"

"I was just being optimistic." Jim said sadly, crossing his legs and sitting up straighter in an attempt to clear his head.

"You have other friends here?" the female voice asked, and Jim noted what he assumed was her shadow moving slightly closer "Are they from Earth too?"

Jim lifted his head to face the other people who bristled with obvious interest "Yes, my linguistics officer, Uhura and my Chief Navigator, Chekov. Do you have any idea where they could have been taken?"

"I won't pretend I've ever heard of a 'Linguistics Officer' or a 'Chief Navigator'," Noel responded gently, his voice quieter with contemplation "We only hear rumours about the prisoners who aren't eaten; no one ever escapes this place, so we don't really have much insight as to what goes on other than hints the guards give occasionally."

"I heard that if you're fortunate and the King likes you, you can be made into a servant at the palace but if not…"

No one continued the sentence this time, instead falling into a frightened trance like state and Jim could swear that some of them shivered at the thought. Sensing that Jim was still confused by their reaction due to his foreign status, Noel managed to reach over and tap him on the shoulder to indicate he wanted to speak to him quietly. Jim obligingly strained against his restraint so that Noel could just about whisper into his ear without it being audible to the rest of the group.

"Apparently they get given to Doctor Standing to be experimented on. The things that go on in the laboratory can send men insane; or so everyone says. The horrors that happen to the victims are too terrible for anyone to even speak about; but sometimes, experiments escape and make their way into the city. It doesn't happen often, but when it does the streets are flooded by secret police and the King's personal guard and curfews are placed on entire provinces until it's caught. When children misbehave, parents threaten to send them off to go see Dr Standing and every one instantly behaves themselves."

Jim let that roll over him for a moment and tried to quell his rising worry but before he could reply, a door on the opposite side of the room burst open with a loud creak and light flooded the room. Everyone shied away from the light, flattening themselves against the walls in an attempt to escape. A dark shadow filled the doorway and barked a non-understandable answer then threw around a bunch of bowls before promptly slamming the doors shut. After the thundering footsteps had disappeared, everyone crouched frozen to the spot, not even daring to breathe until finally they all stretched forward and took the bowls. There was an eruption of slurping and scoffing as people hungrily ate the moist, mush of something that looked-but didn't smell-like porridge. Jim lifted it to his lips, hearing his stomach grumble loudly and took a tentative sip. It tasted fatty and thick, making Jim gag reflexively and he almost dropped the bowl in disgust.

"They'll force feed you if you don't finish your bowl." Noel scolded him kindly, his mouth half-full.

Jim coughed away the bile rising in his throat and swallowed another vile gulp, fighting the violent urge to vomit and finding it increasingly difficult as the taste got considerably worse and burned his throat.

Noel stopped wolfing down his own food "It's not nice but you'll get used to it. Eventually you'll get hungry enough that it won't taste that bad; it's just meant to fatten us up. Besides, you have a few days left."

"A few days left till they cook me? Well that's reassuring."

Noel only snorted and continued eating, leaving Jim alone to ponder on the new information he had obtained. Whatever the case, he didn't have long to escape before he was probably fed to a bunch of cannibals on a platter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi guys thanks for the awesome reviews and I'm glad you like the story! I know it's a little-okay, very-dark and sadistic but I just want to take it to an area that the film can't explore of the kind of reality that (if Star Trek was actually real as we all wish it was) exploring such remote areas of space would be. It's not really an excuse for the horrible things I'm going to do to Jim and Chekov (mostly Chekov ;) ) but oh, well...I'm a sad person with a vivid, sick imagination. Anyway, I felt I really needed to make a couple of shout outs to some RL friends of mine, even if they are a bit embarrassed. So massive thanks to Charlie and Feidhlim (I think I spelt that right?) because you guys are totally amazing for reading this and being so supportive and it honestly means the world to me that you guys enjoy my writing! Now that I've finished my ramblings, let's continue with the story; fortunately nothing to scary this chapter but next time, we learn what's been happening to poor innocent Chekov... PS I'm a Spock/Uhura kinda girl so I hope you don't mind if a lot of their perspectives will relate to their feelings for one another!**

After Chekov was taken away, Uhura had given in to her captors; too devastated at losing the one thing she had been focussing on being taken away. It was slightly selfish that she was using Chekov as the reason to ground herself, but when she heard of the fate that had been decided for the young Russian; her inner walls crumbled and her confidence failed her. She had been locked away in a room for a good hour, just left to ponder over the horrors that awaited her teammates and the hopelessness of her situation. Never before had she actually doubted Jim but right now, her heart had frozen solid in her chest and she struggled not to burst into tears at the mere thought of either of them getting hurt. Jim-in all honesty-had a little punishment destined for him since the moment they arrived with all his cursing and insubordination; but Chekov-poor, sweet, innocent Chekov-had done nothing but the right thing and it physically hurt knowing that despite all his precautions and his strict obedience of protocol would get him nowhere. She found herself praying and begging for Spock to feel her mental despair, to follow her tumble of rage and anguish and bring the entire force of the _Enterprise _along to rescue them. She wanted nothing more than to embrace Spock in her arms once more and sob into his shoulder like a small child until she could her unshed tears were spent. It was rather pitiful in retrospect, but the cold defeat that seemed to surround Uhura-trapping her very spirit within this room-was enough to drive away her sanity and leave her feeling raw and empty; the darkness permeating through her skin and drilling into her soul.

The bedroom she was locked inside was actually quite pleasant as cells go; large and roomy with three queen-sized beds against the walls. The furniture was old fashioned and ornate, the room smelling sweet and surprisingly fresh due to the French window on the east wall that was opened to let in a cool breeze that filtered through the room and made the curtains flutter. It seemed like the bedroom of a princess had it not been for the thick bars across the window and the chains on the headboard of the bed. Uhura sat stiffly on the edge of the soft quilted mattress of one of the beds; too emotionally exhausted to bother to search the room for an escape route that obviously wasn't there. Instead she scooted closer to the bedside table and began tracing the leaf like patters in the wood work with a long finger, gently caressing the soft, shiny surface with a careful frown on her face. Finally the door swung open and two other women entered the room, turning to face the open doorway and curtsying politely before continuing further into the room before the door slammed shut and the bolt was drawn across on the other side with a heavy grating noise.

The first woman turned around, forcing a small smile on her face as she approached Uhura and took a seat beside her. The girl was perhaps a couple of years older than Uhura, with short auburn air cut neatly at her shoulder height; bright, green eyes peered inquisitively at Uhura but there was a hidden pain concealed within the otherwise pure emerald. She wore tight clothing, her flat stomach exposed and a low collar to her leather shirt that was held up by a single strap over one shoulder. There was a short shirt that came down to her mid-thigh that curved with her natural physique to leave nothing to the imagination and Uhura inwardly cringed at the outfit.

"Hello," the young woman greeted, her voice suspiciously enthusiastic "My name's Keera, it's nice to meet you!"

Uhura raised an eyebrow at Keera in scepticism, before taking the woman's outstretched hand and shaking it "I'm Nyota Uhura."

"Welcome to the family Nyota! I know we're going to be such great friends!" Keera beamed at her, clapping her hands excitedly and glancing back toward the other girl.

The blond had her arms crossed tightly across her chest; her long golden curls -that reached low down her back-covering her face so that Uhura could only just make out the icy blue of her eyes peering warily at her. The frosty colour reminded Uhura eerily of Kirk and if anything only brought on another wave of depression as she was reminded of their predicament.

Noticing Uhura's sudden unease Keera gestured back to the skinny blond "That's Luna, she's just a bit shy. Don't worry, we're going to spending a lot of time together so we'll learn all about each other soon enough!"

Luna offered a small wave and Uhura nodded graciously in return; no use making enemies on the first day, especially if they were to be her roommates for the remainder of her imprisonment. The weight on the bed shifted and Keera leapt up, rushing over to her own bed opposite Uhura's and taking some carefully folded pyjamas off the top. Without faltering, Luna followed her lead and both girls stripped down in front of Uhura without even a word of warning or uncertainty before they quickly pulled on the loose clothing over their naked bodies. Uhura stayed in stunned silence for a moment, her cheeks not hiding a hot blush. It wasn't like Uhura had never seen other women naked before, it was just an unexpected move and there was no respectful courtesy of avoiding each other's gaze as they undressed openly. Shaking out of her embarrassment, Uhura straightened up off the bed as Keera flopped down on her own and pulled a book off the face of her bedside table. Luna hopped over and settled down beside her friend, so that she could see over her shoulder and they leaned up against the pillows.

"What page did we get up to?" Keera looked up to Luna who quickly sifted through the pages and pointed at it expectantly.

Keera cleared her throat and her eyebrows knotted together in concentration "George and Leon hurried to the c-cas…"

"Castle," Luna corrected simply, her voice soft and encouraging as she touched Keera's shoulder and gestured for her to continue.

"But on the way they came across a rug-g-"

"Rugged."

"Right," Keera squinted at the writing before placing her finger on the page and tracing a line as she read "Rugged old man…"

Uhura frowned and slowly approached the girls-who were still heavily focussed on their reading activity-sitting down on the edge of the bed and listening carefully as Luna continued to teach Keera and amend the red head's mistakes like she was tutoring a seven year old. The linguist however did not interrupt, a guilty feeling resting upon her head even as she sat silently on the edge of the bed, feeling as though she was intruding on a private moment. Luna appeared to be intelligent and well educated on the other hand Keera seemed quite simplistic in her mannerisms; more of an open book with her emotions where Luna was more reserved. They seemed to come from completely different worlds, their language wildly different and their behaviour even more so.

Finally Uhura piped up anxiously "Keera…you don't know how to read?"

The two girls stopped abruptly and Luna narrowed her eyes as if to say 'don't-point-it-out' but Keera just blushed and ducked her head.

"No, I'm from the Ward fifteen; we aren't allowed to have an education, we just spend our days weaving. What ward are you from? Luna was in Ward three so she's really smart!" Keera's mood improved as she continued to speak and she dropped the book onto her lap.

"I'm not from a Ward."

"Pardon?" Surprisingly Luna reacted this time, obviously caught off guard by Uhura's statement "It is impossible to not be from a Ward; they are strictly patrolled and you obviously have an education-you would not have been so stunned by Keera's inability to read otherwise."

Uhura felt strangely smug at being able to counter Luna's argument "I'm from another planet; I came here with my Captain on a rescue mission."

"Another planet?" Keera gasped in astonishment and she leapt up toward Uhura "How's that possible? Aliens don't actually exist! Do they?"

Keera's naïve response reminded Uhura a little of Chekov's childish nature and she had to smile at the girls enthusiasm despite her older age "They do exist, I'm from another planet called Earth, millions of light years away. I came here on a Starship called the _Enterprise _with a crew of other humans."

"Humans? Starship? Enterprise?" Keera repeated in a whisper, the admiration flashing in her eyes as she looked at Uhura in wonder.

"I'd be happy to explain but I really need to know what I'm doing here?" Uhura asked, flaunting her most innocent, pleading look and she saw pity cross Keera's face.

"You're Captain is here with you?"

Uhura nodded earnestly as Luna shifted slightly to speak "Are they male?"

"I came here with two men," Uhura confided, feeling her unease grow as Luna and Keera looked at one another knowingly "Is something wrong?"

"They will have been taken to either the Laboratory or the Kitchens; either way it does not look very good for your friends." Luna responded flatly, her eyes conveying no sympathy as she brought Keera closer to her.

Keera had tears welling in her eyes "My brother got sent to Mr Jefferson in the Kitchens when they first brought me here; they didn't tell me I had eaten him till after I had finished all my dinner."

Luna rocked her gently as Keera began to sob quietly into her shoulder and Uhura did nothing to hide the mortified look on her face. She might have to eat Kirk? As much as he annoyed her sometimes, he was like her idiot older brother and she couldn't imagine ever doing anything to hurt him, let alone consume his dead body. Also, if that was the fate of Jim; what was to become of poor, innocent Chekov? The King had shown such interest in him and his fate and it was obvious that The King had something planned for the young navigator since the moment Chekov had opened his mouth and it scared Uhura to truly think about what awaited the eighteen year old.

"I also came here with my friend, Pavel, and the King sent him with Dr Standing?"

Both Luna and Keera's eyes widened and they leant forward slightly and Keera wrapped her arm over Uhura's shoulder suspiciously "I think its best you don't know what happens there; no one here will talk about it."

"I think its best you just think about the fond memories of Pavel and accept he has passed on." Luna stated calmly, tugging at Keera's shoulder in a gesture to be wary.

Uhura didn't get to question them further as the lock was drawn back and two guards entered the room, stalking toward them and Keera and Luna leapt to their feet; heads bowed in shame and acquiescence.

The guards merely smiled loosely "Lights out girlies. You need some beauty sleep so you're all fresh for service in the morning."

One then grabbed Uhura's arm tightly, tugging her over to her bed and drawing back the covers and shoving her down on them. Uhura rolled over to fight but he lay on top of her, planting a heavy kiss on her lips and she tried to shove him away as he drew the covers over her body and ran his hand over her lithe form so that Uhura physically gagged at the touch.

"Now be a good girl newbie and I may treat you tomorrow," the guard whispered sickeningly into her ear, stroking back a lock of stray hair as he rose from the bed to see that his companion had tucked in both Luna and Keera.

They quickly left, locking the door and turning the light off from the other side so that the room fell into pitch blackness and Uhura was left with only the silence and deep breathing of the girls in their beds as they settled into sleep.

_Now one thing was certain, Uhura needed to escape-even if she had to do it all by herself-she needed to get out as soon as possible or die trying._


	7. Chapter 7

**Wooh...so I haven't posted in a while! Sorry about that but I've been a bit preoccupied with homework and school and...anime... Anyway, this is going to be very dark and disgusting and you're probably going to hate me...enjoy and please review to confirm how disturbed I am!**

Chekov hissed as he crawled back into consciousness, shying away from the painfully bright lights that burned his retinas. There was the familiar feel or bare metal against his exposed back-his shirt having somehow disappeared during his spell of unknowingness-and goosebumps prickled across Chekov's skin at the freezing temperature of the room. It was deafeningly silent in the bright, white room-that looked suspiciously like Spock's laboratory aboard the _Enterprise_-and Chekov squirmed uncomfortably. He found that he was unable to move, bound to the table by thick leather bands around his ankles and wrists with another strapped tightly around his waist. Chekov felt his heart miss a couple of beats and he struggled uselessly against his bonds, feeling the drug's effects finally wear off as he came to full consciousness. Biting his bottom lip painfully hard, Chekov writhed on the flat plate but quickly discovered it was more of a vicious fidgeting as the binds cut deep into his skin. Chekov wailed in frustration and slammed his fists on the table with a surprisingly heavy bang seeing as he could barely lift them off the polished metal. An atmosphere of pure despair fell over the eighteen year old and he allowed the hot tears to spill down his cheeks so there was a soft drumming sound as they hit the flat surface.

Fighting back sobs, Chekov just lay there, shaking with fear as he just listened to the dead quiet and doing his best not to give in to the crushing hopelessness. There was a faint beeping noise-much like a heart monitor-and it only helped to make Chekov even tenser as the cold air burned his skin. Turning his head, Chekov caught sight of a saline bag hanging from a thin, shining pole and a long plastic cord that trailed to his hand and was inserted into his skin. Now he could feel the tape around the area, attaching the fluid line so that it would not fall and Chekov let out a guttural roar as he tried to remove the equipment from the back of his hand. The beeping sped up as his heart rate increased and Chekov was suddenly aware of a nurse digging a needle into his arm and shushing him, pressing the plunger and filling his veins with the luke-warm solution. Immediately Chekov began to relax, his body feeling numb and limp though he could still move; if only a little sluggishly. However the smouldering hatred and agonising fear lingered and Chekov felt like his guts were being twisted and wrenched by the sheer force of his emotions. A light sheen of sweat now coated his body and the nurse tutted wearily, prying his eyes open and shining a light directly into them so Chekov winced and had to blink away spots. The nurse then leant over and pressed a button on the side of the bed and then produced what looked eerily like a modified PADD and began looking at images and readings with a delicate frown upon her face. Chekov was about to speak to her-having just about built up enough courage to try and question the creepy nurse-a voice spoke from behind Chekov.

"How's our patient doing?"

Dr Standing stepped into view, cleaning his glasses and dressed in blue scrubs; a thin mask hanging limply under his wrinkled chin. He moved over to a station and began cleaning his hands, scrubbing them with a sweet smelling soap before pulling on some gloves.

"The scans came back similar to the other human subjects we tested however his genetic structure is wildly different and it seems his bone structure hasn't yet fully formed. His hormone levels are far more complex to understand; his brain seems to be producing more of it than the youngest of our last subjects." the nurse spoke firmly, her voice devoid of any empathy and she spoke as though Chekov wasn't lying just beside her.

Dr Standing nodded, coming to stand on the opposite side of the table and taking the PADD from the nurses hand "Are we safe to proceed then?"

"Yes sir," the nurse replied, going over to a panel of buttons on another wall and lingering her finger over one "Everything is ready and the team is one standby. Shall I call them?"

"Yes, let's begin as soon as possible. The King expects results." Dr Standing nodded and the nurse pushed the button with a resounding beep.

"I'll be monitoring from the other room sir, good luck."

With that, the nurse left and Chekov was once more left alone with Dr Standing, who merely stood and ran through the scans with a long finger.

"You are most interesting Subject Seven; I must say that you are probably the discovery of my career. The data we recover from you could revolutionise both our medical knowledge but also our knowledge of alien life forms and the universe."

Chekov frowned, now feeling the horrible bleariness of his drugged mind "Subject Sewen?"

"You can't have a name Subject Seven." Dr Standing grinned evilly and adjusted the glasses on his nose "Some people might feel bad if we start naming our patients with all the experiments we have to do in our line of work. You're the seventh human I've had the pleasure of testing with hence why you are Subject Seven. Simple?"

Chekov only chewed his lip feverishly in reply, thoughts tumbling around in his head. Seven humans specifically? Meaning there must have been more who weren't human? What happened to them? Where are they now? What does that mean for me? Chekov's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening and a group of people all dressed in white masks and medical scrubs; wheeling in a small table of various horrifying tools with them. Soon all of them were surrounding Chekov, looking keenly at him as though he were some rare phenomenon and Chekov hadn't felt this out of place since he joined Starfleet at the age of fourteen. Back then, someone being allowed into the Academy of that age was unheard of-still was really-and everyone had looked at Chekov in cruel fascination and kept asking whether he was lost or something due to his obvious youth. Chekov had always hated social situations and his years at the Academy had been difficult to live through, so he mainly focussed on his studies and made few friends when he could. It did however mean that those few friends were ones that Chekov truly knew he could truly rely on like Sulu and-dare he say it-Kirk.

"Are we ready to begin the operation?" Dr Standing's voice was cold with a hint of excitement and Chekov's eyes widened as he froze.

"O-operation?"

The others ignored him, one already pulling a strap across his forehead so that Chekov could no longer move his head and the other placed what appeared to be some kind of gum-shield in his mouth; preventing his mouth from fully closing. An overhead machine whirred and a blue light streamed over Chekov and his mind instantly snapped awake like he had been given twelve cups of high-caffeinated coffee in the space of ten seconds. However he also felt disconnected, somehow unable to feel anything but still fully aware of where he was, like his body had been disconnected from his mind. It most definitely wasn't an out of body experience-or Chekov assumed it wasn't, having never had one before it was hard to tell-as he wasn't drifting around or looking down on himself; he was still there, it was still _him_. The doctors paused for a second, pushing some kind of foam into their ears before picking up and turning on some complicated devices and hovering over Chekov's exposed torso. Chekov was unable to speak as Dr Standing nodded for everyone to proceed before lowering his own laser scalpel and turning it on.

Chekov felt no pain as Dr Standing made an incision across his ribcage and down his stomach, peeling away the skin and Chekov watched with morbid fascination as the doctor fixed the skin aside and began reading out in medical terminology to one of the other doctors. The others just blurred away and Chekov saw Dr Standing reach inside and slowly pull something out; examining it closely as another surgeon held out a small silver pan for it to be placed in. It took Chekov a moment to recognise what it was.

_A kidney. They had taken out his kidney._

Chekov heard a noise as his world began to spin and he felt a ringing in his ears and he finally realised what the doctors had placed in their ears.

_Ear plugs-to silence Chekov's screams._

His young brain unable to cope with the horrors of watching his organs being extracted from his body and he welcomed the impending darkness as it swirled into his vision and he was lost in the abyss of unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi again! As usual, thanks so much for all the lovely reviews you guys send; I really appreciate them! First time ever, someone asked to reference my fic in theirs and I was like at home screaming "Oh My GOD!" and getting waaay to excited over it! Anyway, I don't think I've posted in a while and updates are probably doomed to get longer cause I've just finished Chapter 12 and we're on 8 so I'm sure you guys can do the maths and know you can read these a lot faster than I can write them! Anyway I'm sooooo sorry about doing all these horrible things to Chekov because he's my fav too and he's so adorable that it physically pains me to do hurt him, but alas, my muses always suffer. Later on it will probably get worse but I won't go into as exquisite detail and hey, you get to see Uhura's reaction to it and I tried to make it as emotionally heart-wrenching as possible! This chapter is life back on Enterprise with Scotty and Bones so please review and tell me what you think!**

Scotty wasn't a patient man. Spock and even Sulu had the ability to sit around and think quietly for hours on end due to their respective duties; Science took time to analyse and scrutinise, piloting needed a steady hand and complete concentration but engineering was all about action and running around and thinking on your feet. That was why sitting at a desk and studying numerous scans for hours certainly wasn't appealing to the Scotsman's active nature. Already his fingers were drumming angrily on the monitor and Scotty felt like his brain was misfiring from staring at all the complicated numbers and patterns. Sure he was a genius, but Scotty relied on his senses to solve a problem or fix a machine; he could trust his gut whereas scans could be misread and tampered. Of course sometimes things did require more than a bit of tinkering-otherwise you could be left with a bigger problem than what you started with-but overtime, Scotty liked to believe you could develop a sixth-sense for these types of things and it was often more useful than any device.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Scotty leaned back in his chair and sighed; feeling himself falling into a hurricane of distractive thoughts. That was the problem with being a genius. Your mind was always working; always thinking. Just over breakfast, Scotty had worked out a way to boost their Warp capabilities by naught-point-three percent, reinforce the hull plating with a new titanium alloy and make the replicators create the perfect creamy hot chocolate with marshmallows. He had been planning to share his latest brain waves with Chekov, but the Ensign had been roped into accompanying the Captain on his latest away mission which had, inevitably, ended in disaster and caused the remaining crew-especially Bones-an even bigger headache than usual. Even Sulu was acting particularly skittish with the sudden, suspicious disappearance of his best friend and the emergency beacon the kid had built was making things seem even more desperate. Scotty could only pray that the away team was okay though he highly doubted that given his past experience when in the company of Jim Kirk. The Iowan was a magnet for trouble and from what Jim had revealed of his upbringing-the younger man always had been.

Scotty let his head loll back on his chair and spotted Keenser sat above him on one of the plasma pipes, staring at him with his usual blank expression and beady, black eyes.

"Oi! How many times hav' I told you t'a stay off of there!" Scotty yelled angrily, shaking his arms in a furious fashion "Do ya' know how dangerous is it is up ther'?! Clear off!"

Keenser merely tilted his head to the side and shrugged, climbing elegantly to his feet and scrambling across the piping before leaping down onto the deck beside Scotty. With a glare, Scotty gave the alien a quick hit upside the head before leaning forward and continuing his research on the scans. After a few moments, Scotty groaned and slammed his fist down on the desk; making his cup of tea rattle noisily and almost topple over the edge but Keenser steadied it neatly. Scotty crossed his arms on the desk and buried his head in the gap, closing his eyes and breathing deeply while the alien rubbed the small of his back soothingly. It was a common ritual for the partners. After so many years together on Delta Vega, they had developed quite a brotherly bond despite their constant bickering and different species. When things came down to it; if one was upset, the other would not be far away to comfort them or at least be someone to moan at for a good long while. Keenser was quite, a good listener, and Scotty was generally the one who broke down every so often and spilled his guts out.

So far it had only happened three times on the _Enterprise_: first, when Nero had been destroyed and Scotty had just been overloaded with work and food and people, the second was when he had resigned from his post when Jim had refused to let him examine the contents of the missiles they were carrying in their search for John Harrison-later Khan- and thirdly when the Captain had died in the reactor chamber in an attempt to realign the warp core despite Scotty's explicit instructions and clear warnings. Jim had, in that incident, knocked out his Chief Engineer so that he could go die for his ship and his crew and just left the Scotsman to deal with the tidal wave of guilt and emotion afterward. Scotty would never forget the Captain's pale face behind the glass, Spock's distraught expression and the look of pure devastation when Chekov stumbled inadvertently onto the scene and consequently fainted without anyone really noticing till Spock had returned with Khan's regenerative blood.

The poor lad had been incredibly embarrassed by his reaction, but Scotty could relate and had he really been completely with it-not still dizzy from being assaulted by his own Captain-he may have done exactly the same thing. Chekov didn't seem to realise how young he was and instead compared himself to all the other members of the crew; all of whom were considerably older than himself. Every time Scotty tried to talk to him, the young Russian would smile and politely make up an excuse-surprisingly believable and elaborate- and rush off before Scotty could explain in depth what a good job Chekov had done in his stead, despite his unpreparedness to the stresses of Engineering and though Scotty could have shortened the recovery time, it wasn't all to different given the circumstance of complicated sabotage. The kid had managed to keep his head and perform his temporary duty admirably-all the crew in Engineering would testify to that fact-although in the backlog of issues congratulations had been all but forgotten. Obvious Jim had announced his genuine gratitude but it had been addressed to the entire crew rather than specific persons; which Scotty had found terribly unfair considering Kirk had just thrust the huge responsibility upon the eighteen year old with no prior warning. The Captain was probably the only one who could talk some sense into Chekov but whenever Scotty tried to hint it to the younger man that the navigator needed some encouragement from the man he pretty much worshipped, the _Enterprise_ would be off on some adventure or Jim would become caught up in some debacle with the heads of Starfleet. It was turning into a losing battle.

A large bang startled Scotty out of his thoughtful reverie and he fell out of his seat, feeling Keenser bristle protectively and spin around to face the intruder. Scotty scrambled up and sighed with relief as he met the surprised gaze of the ship's Chief Medical Officer who was wobbling precariously having tripped over one of the spare parts that Scotty had absentmindedly thrown over his shoulder whilst he was fiddling with one of his many machines. Bones looked embarrassed, and he cringed at the Scotsman as he stepped over the wreckage.

"Am I interrupting?" the man drawled nervously, as Scotty tugged at the hem of his shirt in an attempt to make himself look a little more presentable.

"No, no," Scotty waved off the other man's strangely timid question and shooed Keenser away before swiping some random pieces of metal of a chair and gesturing for the Doctor to take a seat "How can'ae help you, Bones?"

Bones smiled weakly and sat down in the seat with a heavy sigh "Just wonderin' how much progress you'd made?"

"Not much, I'm struggling to see any way to penetrate the cloak. It's not a wee piece of technology I can tell you." Scotty turned to look at the screen and allowed Bones to watch over his shoulder as he scrolled through his current results "The Zargon energy is also aff'cting all the probes we send out ther' so I can't discern whether it's some power surge or just…"

Scotty trailed off, his brain going back on its loop and circling off again before he remembered that there was another person listening to his mumbled ramblings and he quickly silenced himself.

"Sorry, off in ma own world."

Bones just nodded understandingly "It's stress, I do the same thing but usually I'm hollerin' my curses at whoever's close enough to listen."

"Usually Jim," Scotty chuckled quietly, feeling his spirits rise a bit at the pleasant human interaction.

"Usually Jim…when he's around to appreciate it."

The fell into an uncomfortable silence at the mention of their missing Captain and Scotty sucked his teeth in the lapse of conversation "So…whadda you been up to?"

"Nothin' much I can do," Bones sighed wearily and sagged uncharacteristically I'm a Doctor, not a psychic! It's not much a doctor can do with my skillset and the pointy eared bastard pretty much just told me to sit around an' wait for everyone else to sort it out. Like hell I'll sit around and do nothin'! Leonard McCoy has never jus' sat around on his ass…however much I'd love too."

Scotty nodded sullenly and bit his lips as Bones ran a hand through his hair and sat back but the chair squeaked and the back collapsed sending the poor man tumbling backwards onto the hard floor with a resounding thump. Scotty sat dumbstruck for a moment, jaw hanging open in horror before he leapt forward to assist his friend. Bones' eyes were scrunched up tight and he groaned softly before Scotty quickly helped him to sit up as the medical officer rubbed the back of his head and massaged his bruised backside.

"Ow, what the hell jus' happened?!"

Scotty grimaced as he met the other man's eyes "I'm so sorry; I totally forgot tha' was broken. I've be'n meaning to fix it for weeks!"

"Why me?" Bones griped, slowly rising to his feet with an anguished huff "Bad thin's have been happening to me all week. Like damn clockwork. Not to mention all ma technology's been failin'. Why is it happening so damn frequently? I must be cursed or somethin'."

"Frequently…" Scotty repeated in a gentle whisper and he leapt upwards and hopped back into his seat with such force that he almost toppled over as well.

"What?"

"Frequently…" Scotty echoed again, a grin growing on his face and his enthusiasm growing as the idea blossomed in his mind "Frequently….Frequency! That's it!"

Bones came closer as Scotty began to quake with excitement as he tapped furiously at the station again "What's it?! Tell me what the hell is going on man!"

"If I can manipul'te the frequency of the EV scanners to just the right level, I can shift through the barrier and isolate the away team's biosigns!"

"You mean you can find them?" Bones exclaimed and Scotty nodded brightly in reply.

"_We can find them! We can save them!"_


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the long wait everyone, I meant to post the other day but my Internet went down and so...I couldn't. Thank you for all the lovely reviews and favs and follows and please feel free to leave a review, I really appreciate them. So this chapter, two of our heroes (that sounds a bit cliché doesn't it?) meet up and make a plan of action xxx love you guys xxx Morgan**

Jim's hands stung painfully as he clawed at the loose brick, feeling the dust clog his newly opened wounds and coat his skin in layers of itchy powder. Ignoring the pain, Jim focussed on getting the last of this seconds brick loose, feeling his nails crack and the tender skin underneath tear as he scratched at the crumbling blocks. It was strange how exhausting such a menial task was, especially in the dark and he pretended not to hear the sceptical whispers of the other prisoners, taking pity on him, mocking him. James T. Kirk was not going to give in to the growing helplessness. His crew were counting on him, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give up on them since they themselves hadn't accepted defeat when he had died in that chamber. Spock had almost died fighting Khan and Bones had worked his ass off to revive him and care for him during his two week coma; Jim certainly wasn't planning to waste all that hard work on one stupid away mission. In fact, he didn't plan on dying for a good long while now; he had experienced his taster of death and was anxious to avoid it for as long as possible. Finally, the last piece tumbled away in his hand and the brick slid from its place in the wall allowing yet more light to flood into the room. It seemed the wall backed onto the outside of the complex and a gentle gust of wind flitted into the room; cleansing with its natural purity.

"You've actually made some progress," Jim was startled by Noel's voice, his face still shadowed by the looming darkness and his heart hammered in his chest "Not that it makes any difference. It's taken you a day to take two bricks out of the wall and unless humans can change their size to become the size of your fist, it's unlikely you're going to fit through."

"There's no need to be sarcastic."

Noel tipped his head to the side with a snort "When did you become the eternal optimist?"

"I just don't believe in no-win situations," Jim flexed his fingers and winced, feeling the ache in his muscles at the awkward position he was having to sit in to cover his escape plan from view of the doorway.

"That sounds like the code of a fool."

"I prefer it to call it bravery," Jim squinted at the gap and tested the strength of the next block before he begun "Plus, it was the only thing that my father taught to me and it hasn't failed me so far."

Noel scoffed bitterly, placing his elbows on his knees "Then your father is also a buffoon-"

Jim's head snapped up to face him, his eyes glowing with evident fury "Don't you dare speak about my father like that! You have no idea what kind of man my father was. He would put every person I know to shame…he was a good man."

"…He's dead?" Noel's voice had quietened now, sensing that he had overstepped the mark of their new friendship.

Jim merely nodded and Noel ducked his head a little lower, looking increasingly ashamed "How?"

"My father was serving aboard a Starship called the USS Kelvin," Jim stopped his work and sighed heavily, settling down with his back against the wall as he inspected his scabbing fingers and the coagulating blood "There was some kind of special distortion…a giant ship came through this 'lightening-storm-in-space' and attacked them…the Kelvin didn't stand a chance against its advanced weaponry. They sent the captain over for negotiations but the Romulan mercenaries killed him and my father was first officer, so he took command in his captain's stead…he ordered all the crew to evacuate -along with my mother- but he stayed at his post to defend the fleeing escape pods and died in the ensuing battle."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Noel's voice was unsettlingly quiet and Jim licked his dry lips tentatively, risking a glance over at the saddened face of his fellow prisoner.

"My father still has the record for the shortest period in command…he saved eight hundred people after being Captain for twelve minutes. Lieutenant Commander George Kirk will forever be a hero in Starfleet history."

Noel nodded understandingly, placing a hand carefully on Jim's shoulder "At least he died a hero."

"I'd rather of had a living coward for a father than a dead hero," Jim's voice was cold and steely, and he was unsure as to why he was confessing so honestly to a practical stranger "You know, I never even met him. I had to rely on strangers from Starfleet to tell me what my father was like because the subject was too painful for my mother to even mention. My father died on the day of my birth, my mother having been in labour as she was evacuated…he gave his life only a couple of minutes after I had been born. He had only heard my cries over the comm. link and had time to discuss what my name would be with my mother before he died."

Noel remained deadly silent and Jim raised his head to try and read the other man's expression; worried he had given away a little too much personal issue for one afternoon. Sighing deeply, Jim returned to his work; once again digging at the thick brick with his sore fingers and cursing with frustration when it didn't budge. He had half a mind to punch the wall and was weighing up whether bruising his knuckles was a worthwhile risk just to vent some of his building irritation when the sound of footsteps alerted him to someone approaching. Jim caught Noel's gaze and they both reacted simultaneously, hurriedly replacing the bricks in their respective places and scooting over till they were shoulder to shoulder, their backs covering any evidence of Jim's on-going escape attempt. The door opened with a squeak, a large chunk of light falling across everyone's' faces and temporarily blinding them and there was a vile wolf-whistle followed by a cackle and a woman, dressed in a rather skimpy, tight skirt and tank top appeared in the doorway, pushing forward a tray loaded with the colourless slop that Jim's captors referred to as 'food'. It took Jim a few seconds to actually recognise the lithe woman as Uhura, the furious scowl on her face not even reminiscent of the daily ones he received but he was delighted by it all the same. Deeming it unwise to draw attention to her, Jim allowed Uhura to make her way around to him as she served the food to the prisoners.

The prospect of having to eat again sickened Jim to his stomach, gagging at the very prospect of having to swallow the tasteless, fatty slime. It had been engineered to fatten the prisoners up ready for slaughter, and it was obvious that the people here had spent a long time exploring how to make the most disgusting, unhealthy thing for them to suffer consuming. Jim had felt bloated after having some of the meat feast burgers back on Earth, but the calories in those were nothing in comparison and Jim was acutely aware that the engineered gunge was creating a bulge on his belly and his arms felt beefier after only one day; the paste somehow making him fatter but without adding any gristle. The concept alarmed Jim however he was mildly curious as to how the horrifying tradition of cannibalism had come about and why the people seemed so devoted to its study but Noel was particularly touchy about the subject due to their current situation and refused to go into any of the philosophy behind it saying he would tell him all in 'Udah' which Jim could only assume was their version of heaven.

Finally Uhura came round to them, finishing a whispered, reassuring conversation with another prisoner with a gracious smile before laying some food down by Noel and Jim's feet. She startled as she looked up and Jim was extremely aware of how frightening he probably looked; covered in grime and dust, hands bleeding, face probably smudged with the same blood and the burning hatred of his captors in his icy blue eyes.

"Jim?" she whispered disbelievingly, taking a hesitant look over her shoulder to check no one was listening in.

Noel's eyebrow rose up in a seamless impression of Spock as if to say 'you-know-this-hottie?" before Jim replied equally quietly "Yeah, it's me. I'm glad to see you're okay. They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Hurt me? No! No." Uhura waved off his concerns suspiciously quickly, as though covering for something else.

"Why are you here?"

Uhura hastily checked over her shoulder again "The King made me one of his trophies," her voice was laced with disgust "I'm one of his personal handmaidens for him to call on as he pleases. I was ordered to serve the prisoners today. Are you alright?"

"As well as can be expected," Jim grimaced, wiggling his fingers at her to emphasise the point "I just can't believe someone's going to eat me; I always thought if I got eaten it would be by some freakish alien monster…or a hot siren."

A faint smile tugged at Uhura's lips "It's good to see you still have a sense of humour, Captain."

"Where's Chekov?"

Immediately Uhura's face fell, her eyes welling with tears and she bit down hard on her lip.

"What?" Jim urged, sudden dread collecting in his stomach and a weight compacting on his chest "He's not dead, is he?"

"No," a single tear spilled down Uhura's cheek and she hurriedly wiped it away with the back of her hand, stifling a choking sob "I don't know. But he was taken by Dr Standing and the girls-"

"Your friend's dead. Or as good as anyway." Noel's blunt interruption cause panic to momentarily flare within him but he quelled it with a furious stare.

"Shut up, Noel. Chekov's going to be fine."

Uhura looked up a Jim, a pleading look in her eye as they shimmered with unshed tears "They said he does experiments on them, what if…"

"Don't," Jim cut her off sternly, but his voice was filled with compassion and sympathy at their mutual pain "Chekov's going to be fine. Worrying about him won't solve anything; the kid can handle himself, alright? We just need to focus on getting out of here."

Uhura nodded and breathed deeply to steady herself before continuing "You have an escape plan?"

"This wall leads to the outer ring of the palace gardens. With a little help-" Jim glanced poignantly in Noel's direction to transfix his own stare before turning back to the linguistics officer in front of him "We can shift the last of the bricks and make a hole big enough for everyone to climb out of; but I'll need you to get us the key to the shackles and locate Chekov, by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" both Uhura and Noah chorused incredulously, flashing each other a maddened glare at the harmony of their voices.

"Yes, tomorrow. We don't have much time; or at least Noel and I don't and I doubt either of us wants to leave Chekov with that…thing…any longer than we have to. You have to at least have a general idea of where Chekov is being held so that we can loop around in the chaos of the others escaping and rescue him; maybe even get a message to _Enterprise_ for them to help us out."

Uhura's brow creased for a moment, evidently in deep thought as her lips pursed together "I may be able to take Luna's shift at the medical centre, but I don't know if that's where they're holding Chekov."

"Do what you can. No matter what, we are not leaving anyone behind." Jim nodded firmly to her and her expression became more determined.

"What's going on?" a deep voice interrupted them and they all turned to see a guard standing near them, a baton like weapon in his hands looking extremely intimidating "Get a move on!"

He stepped forward menacingly to emphasise the point and Uhura rushed to her feet, exchanging an acknowledging glance with Jim then pulling the trolley behind her and offering up the rest of the food. The guard kept close watch on her, standing uncomfortably close and Jim had to restrain himself from screaming at the man when he pushed up against her and his hand rested against the back of her skirt. Uhura tensed but said nothing, her expression one of deep repulsion as she scowled at him with a covered glint in her eye. Quickly, she left; casting a final longing glance in Jim's direction and disappearing through the door with the guard just behind her. The guard smirked evilly as he watched the prisoners shovel the gunge into their mouths then slammed the door shut, plunging them all once again into pitch blackness.

Jim and Noel sat in silence for a while, listening to their heavy, relieved breathing and the loud swallowing sounds of people hungrily eating their food; lest they be forced to endure the agonising torture of force feeding. Suddenly, Noel began to chuckle a little maniacally, bringing up his sleeve to supress the sound of his laughter and Jim gave him an odd look.

"What?"

Noel snorted and turned to look at Jim with an impish smile, his teeth twinkling even in the dim light "I think I may have a crush on your linguistics officer."

"She'd snap you like a twig," Jim sighed with amusement and shook his head at his friend "Plus, my first officer happens to be her boyfriend and even I wouldn't get between them."

"He's can't be that tough…"

"You don't know Spock when he's emotionally compromised."

Noah said nothing after that, lulling forward to pick up his food and pulling a face after the first bite before inviting Jim to do the same. Jim sniggered to himself, glad that he could at least start eating the sickening food with a smile on his face.


	10. Chapter 10

**So this is hopefully going to be another horrifying chapter all about Uhura seeing Chekov and I really hope I've got the level of emotion right xxx This is obviously quite a dystopian society which is why at the beginning I go into a lot of detail about the set up of the room and the separation between two parties but its just an underlying theme that I thought made the fic a little more interesting and it is of little consequence really; I'm just trying to make you guys imagine that kind of world. Also, I've worked out a system so that every time I write a new chapter, I'll post the next one here so when I've written the fourteenth one you'll get a message about the eleventh and so on and so forth until I finish. My friend and I have been discussing it and I've come up with numerous disastrous and terrifying events to come and thank you to Horsetamer5 for PM'ing me that brilliant and coldblooded idea for the fourteenth chapter; I can't wait to get writing it. Thanks for all you fantastic reviews and support, I know everyone says it but I really do appreciate it and so please keep reviewing and talking to me! Morgan xxx**

The relief of finding Jim was soon lost on Uhura as she realised how difficult escaping would be. After she had delivered the food, she had met up with Keera in the kitchens and together they had been serving the King for the entire evening. Keera was as bubbly as she had been the previous day and had insisted on learning everything about her meeting with Jim and Uhura felt strangely safe sharing their plans and was surprised when Keera swore that she would assist in any way that she could and would hopefully get Luna to agree to switch shifts at the hospital with her. They had chatted for a while until they had been called in to serve dinner to the King and his guests who all leered at them and made inappropriate comments as they passed. It infuriated Uhura to be referred to as a belonging rather than an actual person but Keera would flash her a warning look whenever Uhura felt a temper spiking and Uhura would quell the rising fury within her. Keera herself seemed unaffected by the ogling eyes or the vulgar remarks, just moving around the door with an unwavering, adorable smile on her face. They were instructed to stand at the edge of the room and only come forward when someone's goblet became empty of sickly wine and Uhura decided that getting through the night uneventfully would be better than getting punished and risking being unable to escape tomorrow.

Only male guests were seated at the table, their wives seated on a smaller, less lavish one a few metres away. Another couple of girls wearing equally meagre clothing skipped around the table serving them and Uhura felt momentarily jealous as they only received polite thanks and pleasant conversation for their labour rather than the sexist quips the men made at every turn. However, this was the best way to get her hands on the keys that the King kept in one of his pockets.

"Ladies," Uhura turned wearily to face the King as he patted his knee in an invitation for them to sit and another one of his guests beside him pushed his chair back with a scraping sound that made Uhura grit her teeth together.

Keera walked forward and the King directed her to sit on the other man's lap, which she did so decisively and nodded for Uhura to do the same. Carefully, Uhura came up beside The King and sat lightly on his knee, feeling the King's arms come around her waist and pull her up closer so she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. She bit her lip to try and hide her discomfort as the conversation started to kick off once more and then men began laughing again; though Uhura didn't miss the dirty looks they received from the women's table. The King's hand rested on Uhura's exposed thigh and she shivered at the icy cold touch, closing her eyes to imagine it was Spock she was sat with; his smooth, flawless skin brushing hers, his fingers twirling her long hair and his lips pressing against the back of her neck and caressing her gently. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried to put aside the nausea and concentrated on completing her mission; the faster she worked, the sooner she could take comfort in her lover's arms.

Uhura leant back into the man's grasp, and forced herself to relax; feeling the King squeeze her tighter to show his appreciation and the vile smirks grow across the surrounding faces. The King turned her a little to face him, then reached his arms out and hooked them under her knees before swing them over him so that she was pressed sideways up against him; her arms around his neck to prevent herself from falling off. She smiled at him as genuinely as she could make it and he seemed relatively convinced as he stroked his thumb on her cheek and bent forward till their noses were touching and his breath was tickling her face. He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers, the warm taste if his mouth invading hers and she persuaded herself not to pull back as he deepened the kiss and she reached into his pocket, her fingers nimbly searching for the key. They broke away and Uhura looked her swollen lips tentatively, trying not to retch at the unpleasant taste in her mouth. Knowing that he was no longer distracted, she pulled her hand out of his pocket, straightening his lapel with a cheeky smile. Slowly, she rose up and moved back to the corner of the room, Keera following after and all the men watched their progress enviously as they disappeared through the kitchen door.

Once inside, Uhura almost broke down crying; curling up on the floor with her back to the line of stoves and Keera dropped down beside her sympathetically.

"What's wrong?"

"I couldn't find it…" Uhura was on the verge of tears, despair biting at her soul as she brought her knees up to her chest "I couldn't find the key! His pocket was empty."

Keera straightened up and a smile flitted across her face as she dug her hand down the front of her top and pulled out a small object, taking Uhura's hand and dropping it lightly onto her palm. Uhura's eyes widened as she beheld the praised object.

"The man I was with was the King's Military General; he's in charge of security here, including the prisoners." Keera crouched down to examine the key as well and Uhura looked up at her with such gratefulness "He always has his key on him and it was pretty easy to steal off him."

Uhura pulled the other girl into a hug, feeling her relief overwhelm her "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Can me and Luna escape with you now?" Keera's emerald eyes were wide with hope and inquisitiveness and Uhura could see the desperation for freedom glinting in her eyes.

"Of course you can! I meant to free you anyway!"

Keera beamed back at her and then proffered her hand for Uhura to take, which she did so graciously and together they rose off the floor and brushed themselves down.

"You don't have much time," Keera muttered nervously, looking cautiously around to make sure no one was listening "Luna is waiting for you outside the hospital gateway; I'll distract the others till she gets here. Just hurry…and be careful."

Uhura nodded and hurried out the exit, careful to avoid the guards outside as she sprinted down the corridors and darted between rooms. It was a miracle that she hadn't got lost but she had spent most of the morning carefully planning how to reach the hospital without attracting suspicion. The long maze of corridors seemed to go on forever and Uhura felt her heartbeat increase as she wondered whether she had taken a wrong turn and gotten lost but a hand emerged from a darkened cubby hole and she was pulled into the gap. Luna looked at her intently, shoving a tray of tea like substance and what looked like biscuits into her grasp.

"You're late…but they shouldn't notice; they're usually too absorbed in their work to even look up at you." her voice was soft but held a cautious coldness to it and Uhura was about to thank her but Luna brushed past her and disappeared around the corner. Breathing deeply, Uhura steadied herself then headed toward the double doors that were made of iron. A camera stared down at the entrance from the corner and she pressed the buzzer on the side of the door; waiting patiently as they obviously identified her as a servant, then stepped through the door as it slid open.

It revealed a long corridor, well lit by the long, artificial lights on the ceiling that were periodically placed all the way along the passage. Either side, various laboratories full of strange and advanced equipment that beeped and flashed oddly; scientists in stereotypical white coats milling around with PADD's and other scientific utensils like syringes and petri-dishes. The thought of what was in them made Uhura shiver and she chose wisely to keep her eyes straight ahead, squinting in the brightness of the white room and painfully luminous light that radiated from the ceiling above. The glass windows of the lab didn't help reduce the intensity, reflecting it back into the corner of her eyes as she passed. As Luna had instructed, she waited outside the window of the third lab until someone waved her in and she served them their drinks then moved on to the next room. After finishing her round without a single thank you, Uhura gave a sigh of relief and waited near the door till someone passed, sneaking in behind them surprisingly easily. No one seemed to notice her as she passed; too wrapped up in their own work to notice a trespasser in their mist but Uhura pulled on a spare white coat to keep away the cold and help her blend in a little more.

The longer she spent in the labyrinth of suspicious chambers, the more hopeless and uneasy she felt as she scanned the rooms carefully before moving onto the next. She was agonisingly aware that the longer she was here, the more likely she was to get caught and every person that passed her made her heart want to leap further out of her chest; pounding desperately at her ribcage as if trying to free itself from its prison. She was just about to give up when she saw a suspicious room on the corner and was inexplicably drawn to it; her legs moving before her mind could catch up and weigh up the dangers. It slid open as she approached, and Uhura peered inside, finding a surprisingly large room with sinks and cupboards backed against one wall and a table laden with medical tools she could not identify against the other. Opposite her was a series of monitors showing various images of a humanoid body, with numbers and bars alongside it and the tinny beeping of a heart rate monitor alerted her to the prone figure on the steel table in the centre.

Creeping forward, Uhura felt her heart rise in her throat as she spotted a pale hand at the edge, leading up to the ashen face and dishevelled curls of Pavel Chekov. She gasped reflexively, throwing herself forward to tend to him and grabbing his freezing arm as she ran her eyes up and down his body. His entire torso was exposed, a white line running directly up the centre before it split off at his clavicle, curving round to his arms and Uhura watched with growing awe as it faded into the skin, gradually vanishing from sight. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she touched his face, stroking his cheek.

"Pavel?" she whispered comfortingly, trying to hide the heartbreak in her voice "It's Nyota, please talk to me?"

What startled Uhura the most was Chekov's eyes; open and unseeing as they stared blankly at the ceiling with an unwaveringly slack expression on his face. He looked dead and Uhura would have been convinced so, had it not been for the monitors and the slight rise and fall of his chest; his ribs frighteningly clear through his strangely translucent skin. There was redness around his wrists and ankles, just visible beneath the shockingly tight restraints and the single strap that seemed to crush his thin chest. She touched his ghostly cheek, feeling the stickiness of drying tears and kissed the top of his head, her fingers automatically combing through his hair.

"Pasha…please look at me…"

She let her forehead drop against his, her tears dropping onto his face and trickling down his snowy cheeks. Doing her best to sob quietly as her mind was filled with visions of what could have happened to him during their spell away from each other and she swore in that moment to get her revenge against the monsters that did this to him. She couldn't imagine what horrors he had been through and it broke her heart to see someone she so deeply cared about, broken.

"Nyota…" a weak voice gasped and Uhura looked up quickly, seeing Chekov's eyes still staring unwaveringly at some unknown spot above their heads however fresh tears now seeped out of the corners of his eyes.

Uhura couldn't hide the relief and love in her voice as she reached down and clutched his limp hand, her tears flowing more freely when he squeezed back "Pasha! I'm here, I'm right here."

"You need to get out, it'z not safe…" Chekov sounded more fragile than Uhura had ever heard him and she brushed her hand lovingly through his hair again "Zey'll hurt you."

"Shhh Pasha, don't worry about that. I've found the Captain, we're going to get you out tomorrow; you just need to wait one more day."

Chekov whimpered pitifully and his fingers gripped tighter around Uhura's hand "No…no…"

"I'm sorry Pasha; I am so, so sorry but I can't-"Uhura cut herself up as her voice caught and she almost broke down "I will come for you. We will not leave you behind."

He turned to her, his eyes distraught and fearful "How do I do eet? Vhat vould ze Keptain do?"

Uhura was speechless, her mouth opening and closing uselessly as she struggled to rein in her emotions enough to come up with a coherent answer. The noise of footsteps and voices interrupted them and Chekov's eyes grew ever wider.

"Go! Hide! Zey muzt not find you!" Chekov sounded alarmed, as he strained in his bounds and looked over at a large cupboard in the corner, Uhura following his gaze and rushing over to it.

She opened the door and climbed inside, doing her best not to knock anything over as she backed inside and shut the door, just as Dr Standing and a nurse emerged from the doorway. She peered through the small crack, placing a hand over her mouth to conceal her breathing and her heart thumped even more loudly in her chest. Chekov tugged in his restricted position and yelled a fluid river of Russian that Uhura could barely discern. The doctor looked mildly interested but the nurse pulled out a syringe and walked over to Chekov; pinning down his arm and digging the point deep into his arm. Almost immediately Chekov became quiet, his arms dropping back down onto the table and his eyes rolling back into his head. Uhura bit back another bout of panic and she fought the urge to leap out to assist him. For a while the two medical personnel talked quietly between them; their words too muffled to be audible through the doors and Uhura couldn't help but be thankful for that small justice.

As quickly as they had come in, they had were gone and Uhura carefully extradited herself from the confined space; cautiously keeping her gaze firmly on the door as she passed back over to the table. Chekov lay was completely still, his chest barely moving and his eyes rolling restlessly under closed eyelids. Uhura felt like such a traitor as she realised she had to leave him here and she bent down to give him a gentle kiss on his forehead before she forced herself to turn away and practically sprinted out the door and abandoned the clothing somewhere down the hallway and swept up the empty tray. She collapsed in the small alcove as soon as she passed through the iron doors and curled into the foetal position; unable to contain her distress any longer as the image of Chekov burned on her eyelids.

She had to get him out; even if she died trying.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry its taken so long to update! In truth, I wrote half of chapter 14 last week but it was saved on my school computer and so I didn't save it till Friday (when school ended for the holidays, yaay!) then Friday night I was out at the cinema with a good friend of mine having a fantastic time and I haven't been feeling very well the rest of the weekend. I probably wont be able to update for a little while because my Christmas has been ruined by the knowledge that I have GCSE Mocks in January so I have to do all my revision over the holiday and my Christmas present from my parents is revision books for all my subjects. Anyway, I genuinely feel terrible for this chapter and I'm sorry to all of you for hurting Chekov but I needed a deeper dynamic for the whole escape thing...I couldn't make it too easy could I? Please review, they're always appreciated xxx**

Chekov had lost all sense of time; the world intertwining with that of dreams, and Chekov felt himself lost to reality. Although Chekov had felt this confusion before-in a time long before Starfleet-it had never been so intense, so raw, that it felt like it was driving him to the edge of sanity. It had taken Chekov an eternity to even convince himself that Uhura had come to him; and even then he was teetering precariously on the edge of disbelief, the doubt growing inside him with every agonising minute that passed. Though Chekov did his best to stay positive, the constant onslaught of drugs made his usual, rigid focus slip and on more than one occasion he would suddenly become aware that he was staring upwards unerringly and had to persuade himself to concentrate. Sometime during one of his lapses, the doctors must have returned because his arm ached excruciatingly and a machine hovered over the limb, its vice-like claws digging into his skin, repairing a long incision right across his bicep. He had the vaguest memory of seeing his own amputated arm being studied in his peripheral vision but the image was so fleeting that it would dance away whenever Chekov thought he could identify it.

A dull ache echoed across his entire body and the intense pain in his skull ricocheted through his skeleton. A light sheen of sweat coated his body and accumulated on his brow, his teeth chattering angrily as a result of the icy dampness on his skin. The temperature of the room seemed to have dropped agonisingly lower however Chekov speculated that it was the fever now gripping his weakened body. Chekov hated feeling so fragile; even the mad scientists tiptoeing around him as not to damage their specimen and Uhura's touch had been light; as though she was afraid he might shatter at the most gentle pressure. The worst thing though, was the loneliness, the constant oppressive silence and the sobering lack of companionship. Chekov deeply craved the presence of another, some kind of human contact; Uhura having succeeded in dragging him out of his deepening pit of despair, if only for a few moments. More than anything he just wanted the horror story to end; either by his miraculous rescue or his passing, he longed only to escape this vile place.

At one point, Chekov had dreamed of _Enterprise _its dazzling sparkle of the lights, the soft humming of the engine at warp and the smooth glass of his station beneath his nimble fingertips. Beside him, Sulu's expression had held its usual blissful enthusiasm as he had watched the white specks of stars whiz past on the viewscreen as he'd adjusted his grip on the helm controls. When Chekov had turned, he had been hypnotised by Uhura's bright, loving smile as she sat back from her station with the translation device in her ear; looking entirely calm and at home in her pristine uniform. In contrast, Scotty sagged a little with his usual rough, weary exterior but the same enthusiastic gleam in his eyes. Even the Vulcan looked comfortable in his position, a slight smile hinted across his otherwise stoic jawline and Chekov felt a grin creeping across his own face as he remembered the rather amusing banter between the Captain and his doctor over the subject of the emotionless pointy-eared goblin. At the Captain's chair, Bones stood with his usual brooding expression as he glared down in mock frustration at his cocky, blond best friend who had an equally swaggering smirk on his face and his usual aura of complete confidence that Chekov so deeply relied on. The dream had ended with a resounding snap that reverberated in Chekov's mind and he had no doubt that it was some kind of induced hallucination; but he clung to it all the same.

Another bang alerted Chekov to his tormentors return and he instinctively flinched, feeling the scabbing on his bound wrists crack as he tried futilely to break free. Uhura had said he only needed to last one day, but already Chekov felt his sanity start to bend and crumble; and Chekov doubted he could last even a minute longer it the cursed laboratory. He temporarily wondered whether the Captain was suffering as much as himself-after all, the Captain had a knack for attracting trouble and getting beaten to a pulp-though if there was something worse than what Chekov was experiencing he was pretty sure that even the infamous James T. Kirk couldn't have formulated an escape plan and Uhura certainly wouldn't have been so concerned with Chekov's wellbeing. The Russian's mind flashed back to those aboard the _Enterprise_ and he wondered what fate had befallen them. Had Sulu received his transmission; with the device having been so temperamental beforehand? Did they even know what was going on? Were they going to save them?

A rubbery latex hand startled Chekov from another of his moments and he blinked at Dr Standing, trying to read the man's seemingly blank expression. He was even harder to read than Spock. The doctor's hands pressed against his body; testing him as he read off useless things to the nurse beside him. Chekov found he no longer cared; as long as he felt no pain then just lying back and cowering behind his own mental shields seemed like a good idea. For a while he just lay there peacefully, staring up at the ceiling and wishing he could just drift away and be back on his precious ship with his most treasured friends; then cursed himself for being so sappy and instead focussed on being someone else, calculating what Spock or the Captain would do. When that did nothing and his mind came up blank, he reverted to his usual solution to whatever problem was thrown at him and buried himself it a tumble of complicated mathematics and swirling sequences that he built and broke down off the top of his head. It was a strangely relaxing exercise and Chekov found his fear dissipating and the shortness of his breath slowing into a calm rhythm. He was vaguely aware that the other people around him found his meditations highly intriguing, and were watching him intently and taking down lengthy notes, probably of his psychological health and Chekov momentarily considered whether this would be considered normal of a boy his age and whether-when his crewmates eventually came for him-Bones would deem him stable enough to return to duty. Probably not given the extreme circumstances; his young age, the seriousness of his injuries and the rest of the crew's excessive protectiveness.

"Pass me the cerebral invisulator." Chekov eyes snapped over to Dr Standing as he took a strange device-much like a small ring box from another of his willing colleagues-and carefully positioned it over his left eye then proceeded to take one more and place it over his right eye.

Inside, Chekov could see the tiny trails of fluorescent lights that danced and swirled across the odd metal and Chekov felt himself strangely curious as to the machine's purpose. Sharp pints dug into his skin across his forehead and on his temples, making Chekov wince at the sudden pressure and he squirmed uncomfortably only to feel the band around the top of his head tighten.

"Are we ready?" Dr Standing's voice lacked the enthusiasm it had before, and seemed disturbingly monotonous "Activate."

A searing pain erupted behind Chekov's eyes and his brain felt like it was cooked alive in an instant; the lightning bolt effect leaving his screaming out in agony. The monsters around him seem undeterred and Chekov could feel the metal pints growing hot and burning his pale skin as the power-and the pain-intensified drastically. A shock snatched him back from unconsciousness and he found himself unable to screw his eyes shut as electricity pulsed through his body, setting his nerves alight and burning him from the inside out. This time is throat could take the strain of his scream and it felt like he had ruptured some of the blood vessels down his tracheal causing his mouth to fill with the metallic taste of blood and his breathing restricted.

One of the nurses cried out in alarm "His body cannot take the reaction. He is at risk of catastrophic cardio and respiratory failure under the exertion."

Hands pushed down upon Chekov and his mouth forced open before a tube was shoved down his throat and he tried to lash out. The plastic feeling pipe made his lungs feel like they were constricting and he immediately coughed and gagged involuntarily but the nurses only rammed the apparatus down harder until it reached the correct position and his previously blocked airways were filled with artificial, uncomfortable buffets of air that came in irregular pants and forced him to control his breathing. The pain in his eyes alerted him to the other present danger and he growled in frustration against the tube in his mouth as his arms barely lifted off the table and he was unable to defend himself against the onslaught. Someone flattened tape across his lips-thick and heavy-so that the tube could not move and his mouth was shut tight against the plastic nozzle at its tip. Chekov screamed a gut wrenching sound that he was certain could be heard from the castle beyond before he was promptly shushed by someone to his left and another sharp spike of pain cut his cries off.

As quickly as the pain had begun, it stopped, and Chekov could hear the audible sighs of what he could only describe as relief from the onlookers.

"Everything is stable sir, Subject Seven survived the procedure; unlike Subjects Three and Six. His vitals are already returning to relatively normal levels-given of course the consequence of his stress and anxiety, not to mention the delayed reaction to the medication."

"Good," Dr Standing sounded tired and Chekov wished he could see the man's face; to give himself even a small insight as to his position "Make sure all the data is recorded and stored; we may need to refer to it soon. Let's remove the cerebral invisulator and ascertain its effectiveness."

Chekov felt his heart freeze with unusual dread and he breathed in a deep, wheezy breath through the hateful contraption in his throat. A latex hand rested against his temple, sliding away the spike of the metal band as though it were a crown of thorns, before carefully plucking the two boxes from his face. Chekov's first thought was of how surprisingly dark it was-given of course that the room, minutes before, had been glaring with artificial light that made his eyes water-and he finally came to the decision that he had yet to open his eyes. He blinked, and felt his eyelids move and his long eyelashes tickle his tear stained cheeks but still no image or light would appear to him. Confused, Chekov tried again and again to look around but for some reason, he seemed unable to.

_They had blinded him. Those despicable machines have taken his eyesight._

Chekov sobbed before he could catch himself, his heart burning and the terror returning with such vengeance that Chekov felt himself swallowed by it "My eyes? Vhat hawe you done to my eyes?"

The tube in his mouth made the question come out as a muffled groan that made his throat constrict and he felt his chest squeeze his lungs, a machine beeping at him angrily.

"His eyesight is not functioning sir, just as you predicted. Brilliant as ever, Dr Standing." a praising tone ignored Chekov's attempt at a question and Chekov felt hot breath on his face as someone pried open his eyelids and tilted his head a couple of inches to the side.

"Hmmm, if we could turn this into a gas form, it would be most helpful against our enemies." Dr Standing mused, and Chekov writhed on the bed at his self-satisfied tone "I will go inform the King that our first official experiment was a complete success."

With that, there was the fading of footsteps until gradually all other sounds disappeared and Chekov was left to ponder the probability of his escape-for once desiring the ignorance of most his own age; to lack the extensive knowledge of how to calculate his chances-and he waited in the suffocating darkness with torrents of tears spilling down his sift cheeks for his friends return. Thinking all that time…

…_how to I get them to leave me?_


	12. Chapter 12

**HAPPY NEW YEAR! I felt bad for not having posted i so I thought, I'm halfway through Chapter 15, I can spare some time to post Chapter 12! This is dear Sulu's chapter and we learn how fares the Enterprise. Won't be quite as whumpy as the last few chapters, so perhaps it is a little of a relief. Please tell me if you like the characterisations and such as these kinds of the chapters are the time to do so. As always, your reviews are fantastic and I love hearing from all of you! Glad you're still enjoying the fic 12 chapters in. Any mistakes are my own and I know how frustrating they are so apologies in advance. Enjoy and please keep reviewing! I love any support I get! xxx**

Sulu's heart was thumping loudly in his chest as he navigated the bustling corridor toward the laboratories on C-Deck. Spock had requested his presence there as a matter of urgency and as soon as Sulu had received the hail from his CO, he had been rushing from the room; quickly transferring control of the Bridge to a nearby Lieutenant whom he had aptly posted at Communications in preparation for such an event. It was of the utmost importance that someone remotely capable of command was stationed in the Captain's chair at all times, with the likelihood of crisis and the certainty of attack looming over the ship so Sulu had decided that-since he knew he would be unable to pause for even a few seconds when he was summoned-it was best to place a more senior member of the crew somewhere close as a precaution. Apparently his judgement was entirely correct, and no one questioned the move as he walked out and focussed on his true burden. Spock's sudden need for the helmsman's presence surely meant that some miraculous breakthrough had been discovered and the senior crew needed to formulate a plan-probably wacky and wild enough to challenge even the missing Captain's-and Sulu was already thinking of every possible method Spock and Scotty had come up with. He had been suspicious that Scotty had worked out some crazy theory of how to get through the heavy shielding undetected, after hearing the chatter from a couple of ensigns who had been passing through engineering when there had been some kind of commotion and a lot of excited yelling from a certain Scotsman and the joyed Chief Medical Officer; though Sulu had to doubt a tiny piece of the information due to the fact he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Bones smile, let alone be 'joyous' or god forbid 'excited'.

So far, Sulu's skills had been altogether useless in such a crisis and Spock-having seen the restlessness and building frustration in his subordinate-had hastily issued him command of the Bridge and left the younger man to ponder in silence and stew in his own juices; knowing that the elevated position of the command chair would at least make Sulu question any foolish actions and lighten his mood just a fraction. Of course normally Sulu would have revelled in the lush chair of command, marvelling at the wonder and power he felt as he sat in the holy furniture and admired the softness of the leather and the intricacies of the panel on the arm. Just thinking about it usually made Sulu feel more like a child giddy on lemonade than the chief helmsman aboard Starfleet's 'pride and joy' flagship. However, current circumstances dampened his mood considerably, so much so that those around him daren't approach and merely squeaked at him when they handed over a necessary PADD before scuttling away. During his long span of loneliness-that Sulu never remembered Kirk ever getting, since he was constantly barraged with crewmembers asking him for something-Sulu had time to think and he was left wondering whether he should become accustomed to this sense of duty and authority. After all, if the Captain was dead then Spock would have to serve as acting-Captain and therefore Sulu would be promoted to his acting-first officer. That morbid thought was enough to make Sulu's head spin and his stomach feel like it was twisting into a complex knot and he buried the idea moments after it had even come to him.

A couple of medical personnel dressed in the familiar blue uniform, were gossiping loudly as Sulu turned the corner but they instantly fell quiet when they spotted him and avoided all eye contact as he passed by. He was tempted to call them up on their discussion, demand to know the details of their conversation, even pull rank if they refused or teetered off on some ridiculous response but Sulu already knew the truth, he didn't need anyone to confirm it because news travelled fast around the _Enterprise _and the away team's disappearance was the most scandalous thing to happen since someone had mentioned that one of the younger female ensigns may have been pregnant by a certain high-ranking first officer. That lie alone brought on Armageddon when Uhura had confronted Spock about it to the point where their friends had seriously been considering that the two lovers would end it. Thankfully, Bones had done a quick check up to confirm that the ensign was not pregnant and the culprit had swiftly been apprehended and been reminded of their place and for a while the usual had chatter had ceased, only to trickled back after a short period underground and it seemed now the damn had burst. Sulu had been reliably informed that a large number of rumours had been circulating throughout the ship, across the decks and to every station; absurd theories about ghosts and monsters and equally unfeasible possibilities. In the end, Sulu had just chosen to cover his ears and close his mind against the torrent, holding his head high as he continued to fulfil his duty and did his best to ignore the more violent conspiracies of his comrades; some even daring to speculate that a certain young ensign had met an unfortunate end on the planet's surface and that the Captain was either to guilt-ridden or-more popularly-terrified of what the 'big, bad Bones' would do when they returned with a body for him to autopsy and dispose of, on top of his already busy schedule.

All these horror stories were beginning to weigh heavy on Sulu's heart and his limbs felt numb and heavy with a deep, thriving sadness that consumed his entire body. Just outside the door, Sulu faltered and his blood turned to ice in his veins. What if this wasn't to announce their success? What if it was to declare that nothing could be done and that they should leave, even just to get reinforcements? Or worse still, what if this meeting was because they had broken through and the rumour about away team's gory demise had been validated? But no, Bones would never leave any of them down there; least of all Jim. And Spock loved Uhura…didn't he? Chekov…poor Chekov was too young for them to abandon; the navigator may have not had much of a family back home but it was Chekov! The crew was his family, just like they were Sulu's and he was certain-well, pretty much certain-that the others felt the same way. But did they?

Sulu's musings were interrupted by a muffled noise through the door, like someone speaking loudly and he blinked bemusedly at the close door.

"Well I ain't waitin' around for Sulu any longer. Where in God's name could the man have disappeared to? I swear, when I find his ass I'm gonna-"

The door opened with a whoosh and Sulu was met by a startled Bones as he struggled to stop himself careening into the younger man. For a second there was just silence before Bones's expression morphed into one of annoyance as he tried to cover the shocked look from before; his hands coming to his hips as he narrowed his eyes at Sulu.

"Where in Hell's name have you been? We've been waitin' for ages." the doctor demanded but his eyebrows knotted together in confusion "Have long have ya' been standin' there?"

Sulu's eyes widened in panic and he failed to cover the blush across his cheeks "I-I just got here! I was about to come in when you opened the door! I-I got distracted by…someone."

Not waiting for a reply to his obvious lie, Sulu shook his head and pushed past the Georgian and entered the blinding whiteness of Spock's main laboratory. Inside, Spock and Scotty were already looking at a diagram on one of the tables; Spock's eyebrow's raised in context of his deceit and Scotty just offering him his usual beaming smile.

"Nice to see ya, laddie." Scotty greeted cheerfully and they passed the silent conversation of each other's welfare before Sulu joined them at the table top with Bones standing beside him.

"So, what are we looking at?"

Spock motioned to the complicated lines and codes on the screen with one hand, the other still firmly behind his back "This is the frequency of the planet's shield. We have calibrated our sensors to be identical so that now they can pass through and allow a detailed scan of the planet's surface."

"Anything yet?" Sulu inquired, trying his best to sound professional as he felt the weight on his chest lift and he waited in eager anticipation of a positive answer.

"Aye laddie," Scotty confirmed with a quick nod of the head as his smile grew bigger "Better than jus' anything. We found them."

"You found them!" both Bones and Sulu chorused and judging from the light in Bones's eyes, Sulu suspected he had been summoned much like himself.

"Indeed." Spock replied in a clipped tone though there was a hint of emotion in his eyes as he allowed Scotty to continue.

Enthusiastically, Scotty tapped at the screen again and a 3D image flashed up slightly above the desk, slowly rotating so that viewers could see it better. Bones and Sulu leaned in to inspect the building's structure, designed much like a medieval castle with a couple of large buildings either side of a massive pavilion.

Scotty pointed into the complicated map and waggled his finger toward one of the dots situated in the main castle building "These are human bio-signs. Three life signs; all in different areas of the complex."

"They're alive…" Sulu whispered with relief, following Scotty's appendage as it looped over to both of the separate buildings.

"As yet, we cannot identify specific DNA sequences and therefore cannot determine where specific members of the crew are," Spock stated coolly, his eyes darting between the two humans opposite him "However, we have been able to discover something…concerning."

The unusual darkness in Spock's tone made Sulu's attention snap back to him and he saw Bones cross his arms with another fierce expression on his face "Wha' do ya mean somethin' concernin'?"

"What Mister Spock is trying to say is-" Scotty faltered as he looked to Spock uncertainly, obviously knowing that this was something the Vulcan would struggle to express and Sulu's heart beat faster.

"Just spit it out, man!"

Spock looked up at Bones, his expression unreadable and Sulu found himself wondering if he had ever seen such an unidentifiable look in his eye "One of the bio-signs is barely registering on scans."

"Which means?" Sulu asked quickly, receiving a quick glare from Bones who had obviously planned a ruder question.

"It means laddie," Scotty sighed sadly and met the young helmsman's eyes "That one of the crew is injured; they're life-signs are weak so the scanners are struggling to pick them up."

Sulu felt like he had been punched in the gut and he didn't attempt to disguise his horror as Bones gritted his teeth and banged on the table "The scanners could be wrong! You can't trust all this damn technology!"

"That is highly unlikely; Mister Scott and myself have recalibrated the sensors twice and come up with the same result."

If Sulu hadn't been drowning in his own rising panic, he would have been touched that the Vulcan had tested the scanners so much in an attempt to find anything but the truth; but a pang in his heart made Sulu certain that Chekov was in trouble. They had been best friends since the Nero incident and were practically twins; almost inseparable and knowing everything there was to know about each other. That powerful friendship meant they had a connection, and subconsciously they knew when the other was upset, or in pain and they felt but a fraction of one another's suffering in recompense.

"How weak is it?" Sulu's mouth was so dry that his question came out as a hoarse whisper that made the whole lab fall silent "How long have they got?"

Scotty opened his mouth and looked painfully exasperated "I dunno, laddie. We haven't got much and it's hard to tell from just a few scans. There's no way ta know-"

"Spock," Sulu coldly interrupted the engineer, staring down at his hands as they gripped the edge of the table; his knuckles freakishly white against his tanned skin "A prediction…it doesn't have to be exact. Analyse the data and give me a guess, an estimate…just something…anything."

"From the data, I could only discern a fluctuation in their body function and heart capacity. If it continues so irregularly…" Spock paused and looked at Sulu as if trying to determine of this was a logical course of action "Perhaps, a few days. But their health is certainly declining at an unpredictable level; it appears that the affects have some kind of cause, and I could only guess it was from something or someone native to the planet."

Sulu bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, so hard that he tasted blood a second later and he nodded dumbly in response. Beside him, Bones placed a caring hand on his shoulder and the other two watched the helmsman warily.

"They'll be all right, lad." Bones said softly, his tone strangely paternal "You jus' gotta have a lil faith."

Accepting Bones' words, Sulu stood straight and crossed his arms confidently over his chest; his eyes burning with a dangerous anger and his blood pumping faster in his veins as he faced them as a warrior, preparing to do anything necessary.

"So," he asked the various faces around him, absorbing their more worried expressions and allowing them to fuel his determination "What's the plan?"


End file.
